30 Kisses: Mulan and Shang
by lightbird
Summary: For LJ's 30 Kisses Challenge. 30 moments in the life of Mulan and Shang, some cute and fluffy, some more serious. Last theme up. [COMPLETE]
1. Bad Night

Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney. Jiang Li-yu and Jiang Huan-yu belong to me.

A/N: I was inspired after reading **Fyliwion's** "30 Kisses: Kaito and Aoko"(Detective Conan/Case Closed fandom) for LJ's 30 Kisses Themes Community (thank you, Fyliwion), so I've claimed the Shang/Mulan pairing and have been working on the challenge (I've already been posting to LJ and decided to post here as well). This will be a collection of one-shots based on each of the 30 Kisses themes; some of them take place in more modern times with other characters, since many of the themes included technology and did not fit into the Mulanverse (but the couple is still included in those parts, at least in some small way, as per the guidelines).

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Bad Night** _(Theme #14, radio-cassette player)_

Fifteen-year-old Jiang Li-yu stirred in his bed, abruptly dragged out of slumber by his little sister's crying. He flipped over onto his back and sighed.

"I'm coming, Little Sister," he called out groggily.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes he raised himself up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed as Huan-yu's sobs continued relentlessly, rising in pitch despite the fact that her big brother was awake and on his way. She was calling out for their mother.

Blinking against the glare of the sudden light as he turned on the lamp, he stood up and stumbled toward the hallway of their small Chinatown apartment.

"Shh, it's alright. I'm coming, Huan-yu."

He flipped the light switch as he passed through the door to her room and hurried to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. She bolted up and threw herself against him, her tears already dampening the material of his nightshirt.

Li-yu closed his arms around her, clinching her in an embrace and stroking the back of her head soothingly.

"Okay, okay. It was just a bad dream," he murmured, holding his little sister and rocking her until her tears subsided.

She sniffled softly and he tenderly kissed the top of her head.

"Better?"

He felt her head nod against his chest. "A little."

Patting her back gently he let her rest against him quietly for a little while, hoping that she would drift back to sleep.

"Do you miss her, Elder Brother?" she asked, breaking the brief silence, her voice muffled against his shirt.

Their mother.

"Of course I do."

"Is she a ghost now?"

"What? Where did you get that silly idea?'

"Sue told me that when people die they become ghosts, especially if it happened unexpectedly like Mama."

"Who is Sue?"

"My friend at school."

Li-yu couldn't help chuckling slightly at the silliness of little girls.

"Mama is not a ghost, Huan-yu. And you shouldn't listen to what Sue says anymore. She doesn't know what she's talking about. She's just a kid, too."

She leaned back and gazed up at him, tears already welled up in her eyes again.

"Why do people have to die?"

A frustrated sigh escaped from the tired teenage boy despite his efforts to maintain his composure for his little sister.

"I don't know, Huan-yu. That's just the way things are. Old things die to make room for the new and young."

"But…Mama wasn't that old…it was because of an accident…"

"I know…" he began, at a loss as to how to continue and beginning to feel choked up as he thought of her. He forced the lump in his throat back, knowing that as the elder – and male – child he needed to be strong for Huan-yu's sake.

Tears streamed down her cheeks and he gathered her up in another embrace.

"Sometimes things happen and we don't know why," he offered quietly, as much for himself as for her.

"Where do people go when they die then?"

"Well," he began, thinking of something their mother had told him. "Our ancestors are all of our relatives who lived before us, since way, way back, when the family lived in China. Mama is with them now."

"So she's in China now?"

"Um…"

"What do they do?"

"What do they do?" he repeated.

"The ancestors. Do they do the same things as we do every day but in a different place?"

Li-yu sighed again. Sometimes he couldn't fathom his younger sister's train of thought.

His eyes were beginning to droop closed and he wanted nothing more than to go back to bed. He wished that his little sister would just fall back asleep as well. Instead the inquisitive seven-year-old was in the mood to ask him questions about why the world was the way it was, as if he had the answer to everything. Father was working at night now so responsibility for his little sister had fallen to him, along with dealing with her difficult nights. She was frequently terrified by nightmares ever since their mother had been killed and he suspected that they had worsened so suddenly due to the crazy things that friend told her.

After considering carefully how to phrase his answer so that he would comfort her and not upset her further, he finally spoke.

"Our ancestors watch over us and give us guidance, Huan-yu. Mama is gone from this life, but wherever she is, she still loves us and watches over us."

"She can see me now?"

"Yep," he laughed playfully, ruffling her hair. "She wants you to go back to sleep. A growing girl like you needs rest."

Huan-yu whined softly. "I'm not tired. Can't you stay with me for a little while longer?"

The elder sibling suppressed a sigh. An idea came to him and he extricated himself from the little girl's grasp.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll be right back. I have a surprise for you."

He was treated to a squeal of excitement and delight as he returned to her room with the radio that he'd bought for himself with money earned from his part-time job after school. He knew how much his younger sister coveted it, clamoring to come into his room whenever he had it playing so she could listen too. It had a cassette player in it as well, but he needed to earn some more money before he could start buying tapes to play. Setting it down on the end table next to Huan-yu's bed he plugged it into the outlet and switched it on.

Li-yu found himself beginning to nod off as he sat with his sister, listening to the quiet music. Catching himself falling forward he sat up with a start, his eyes popping open. He glanced at Huan-yu, hoping that she'd fallen asleep and he could go back to his room. But she was still sitting up, eyes wide open, listening intently to the music.

With a shake of his head he began to inch himself off of the bed. "I'll tell you what. You can keep the radio tonight, okay?"

"Okay!"

Leaning over and kissing the top of her head again, he bid her goodnight and stood up.

"Don't stay up too late listening, though. You have school tomorrow, alright?"

"Yes. Goodnight, Elder Brother. Thank you."

**xxxxxxx**

Li-yu heaved a soft sigh, at a loss as to how to comfort his sister who had woken up screaming for the second time that night after being trapped in the throes of another frightening nightmare. He didn't know what to do; she never remembered the dreams nor did she even seem to have any idea what they were about. The one thing he was sure of was that it was somehow about their mother's death. Whether she relived the scene of the accident or even remembered it, he didn't know. But she always talked about Mama when he came to comfort her and often cried out for her in her sleep.

"Do you want to listen to the radio again?" he asked, reaching toward it to flip it back on.

But she shook her head, sniffling.

Stroking her hair tenderly, he fell silent for a short time, pondering how to soothe her this time. He'd been certain that she would have jumped at the chance to listen to the radio again, just to have it in her room had pleased her no end. But even that wasn't doing the trick now.

He exhaled softly as he felt the weight of her head resting against him; she was quiet and relaxed now. In fact, he thought she had drifted off and began to shift, preparing to ease her down onto her bed again. But her little fingers grasped his wrist.

"You're still awake?"

"Uh-huh."

Mama had always told her stories before she went to bed and he decided to try the same tactic.

"How about if I tell you a story until you fall asleep?"

"Okay."

"You have to lie down first and then I'll tell you."

She did as she was told, then smiled up at him and demanded _The Ballad of Mulan_.

"Aren't you tired of it?"

With a vehement shake of her head she began to sing her favorite poem. Their mother sang it whenever she cleaned the apartment and he'd come home from school countless times to find Huan-yu following her around the place, attempting to intone the ballad with her and commit it to memory.

"No singing, Huan-yu. It's too late."

"But you have to sing it…"

"How about if I tell you another story about Mulan?"

"But the story ends with her going home…"

"Yes, but there's more to the story. She met a man during her stint in the army, an Imperial officer, and fell in love with him."

Huan-yu's eyes narrowed as she stared disbelievingly up at her brother.

"I never heard that…"

"That's because you've only wanted to sing the same poem over and over again. Do you want to hear the new story?"

She nodded eagerly.

"Yes, please."

"Well, when Mulan went into the army she fought bravely and won the respect of her troop. A very brave and handsome man named Li Shang was the leader of her troop and she secretly loved him. But he didn't know that she was really a woman. He found out the truth later. After she went home he came to see her. They had more adventures together and fell deeply in love with each other. When they went home, they got married."

"What kind of adventures did they have?"

Resigned to the fact that he would be up for awhile Li-yu made himself comfortable and began to tell her the story about the further adventures and romance of Fa Mulan and Li Shang.


	2. Brief Repose

Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

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**Brief Repose** _(Theme #6, the space between dream and reality) _

A warm tender breeze blew over him, caressing his cheeks lightly and ruffling his tousled hair before it subsided and the air became still again. He felt himself relaxing as he lay there in the grass, relishing in the feel of the wind's quiet touch and the warmth of the sun's rays kissing his skin. Soft sounds surrounded him; the chirping of birds, the whisper of the leaves as the air stirred them gently, a splash of water in the stream nearby.

_Mulan._

He'd left her alone at the stream so she could bathe in privacy while they were stopped for lunch; she never did get up in time to do much in the mornings. He always had to wait for her; they were complete opposites as far as waking habits. Whereas he had been up since before the sun, she only had time to do the bare minimum of what she needed to in order to prepare for the day's journey, scrambling out of her tent and rushing to get ready to go as he teasingly threatened to move on without her if she didn't hurry.

She'd already let her long, thick raven hair out as he began to walk away from the bank of the water, but not before he glimpsed it cascading down around her face, tumbling down over her shoulders, still covered by the tunic that she wore.

His lips curved into a small smile as the image of her flitted into his mind. There was another splash and in his mind's eye he could see her moving around in the water, her wet hair clinging to her lithe, sinuous body, bright droplets glistening on her smooth pale skin and bare breasts…

The bright sun beamed directly against his closed eyelids as a cloud moved off and Shang drifted awake, his daydream fading momentarily. He twisted his head to the side, away from the glare, and rolled onto a side, burying his face in the crook of an arm to shield it from the sun.

It was rare for him to have quiet, meditative moments such as this ever since his promotion. He never imagined how daunting the work load of a general could be; and his was less than the other generals! The Emperor had gone easy on him, taking into consideration the fact that he was less experienced than most men were by the time they attained the rank. Still, a brief spell of dozing in the grass, his mind lost in pleasant soporific reverie in this way, was a luxury he could rarely afford these days.

They had been traveling at a brisk, steady pace and making good time so far. The Emperor wasn't expecting them until two days from now. Even at a relaxed trot they would arrive by the next day and Mulan had been as eager as he to relax for a spell and enjoy this sunny, beautiful afternoon. He couldn't remember when he'd seen such a deep blue sky, dotted here and there with soft white clouds that slowly floated by, allowing the sun to play hide and seek behind them.

His thoughts drifted from wondering about their new as yet undetermined assignment to Mulan and how he'd met her. For months he knew her as a young boy named Ping in his camp; a weak, annoying and useless soldier as far as he was concerned who, to his great astonishment, proved himself otherwise. Now he'd come to know her as Mulan, China's heroine; honored and respected not only by him but by the Emperor himself. And her accomplishments as a soldier seemed even more incredible to him.

He had never known any woman who was so intelligent and exuberant, so open and trustworthy. And beautiful. After seeing her in a dress Shang couldn't believe that he'd ever thought her a young man.

Awkward Ping. Memories of that time drifted into his consciousness and his mind wandered as he lay there, lulled into a half-dreaming state by those recollections, the sounds around him, the soft grass and the gentle kiss of the wind. Images of her that would never leave him danced through his head in random sequence. The way she looked when she knelt in the snow before him after he found out the truth of who she was; dark hair framing a pale oval face like the moon, cheeks flushed a rich pink from her rising fever, dark eyes wide and trusting, pleading not for her life but for his understanding and forgiveness. The boy soldier with the quirky smile staring down at him from the top of the pole, weights slung around thin shoulders. The slim, nimble figure sliding down a string of lanterns from the roof, landing on his back with a crash, causing them both to tumble down on the platform together. He remembered how he felt when he turned and saw her sprawled on the ground beside him, gazing back at him with her quirky crooked smile, safe and alive. How he felt when he watched her ride away from him; and then when he went after her and saw her again at her home…

The muscles in his face twitched against the feel of cool drops of water that dripped onto his exposed cheek. Wondering vaguely about where it had come from Shang brought a hand up and absently rubbed at it, his eyes still closed. He settled down again, slipping back into his reverie as another gentle breeze ruffled his hair.

"Shang."

It was just a whisper but it caused a myriad of feelings to swirl inside of him. In his half-dozing, twilight state he turned his face toward where the voice was, waiting for her to speak again.

Soft, warm lips settled on his and lingered there, kissing him and sending a thrill through his body. A cloud of silky hair fanned across his face, caressing it teasingly, enticing him with its lovely floral smell. Reaching up, he embraced her and pulled her down onto him, entwining his legs around hers. They met full on in a long, passionate kiss. He felt a stirring in his groin as she shifted and her lips moved away from his mouth, to his neck and then lower, tasting and exploring his chest and his torso, working her way down slowly…

"Shang."

She spoke his name out loud now and he was jarred back to reality where he became aware of the hard ground that his body lay upon, the smell of the grass, the tickle of a bug crawling across his arm. A small hand rested on his shoulder, shaking it.

"Shang?"

Had it all been a dream then? Her touch, her kisses seemed so real. How long had he been asleep?

Somewhere in his still-hazy consciousness he realized that she had asked him something and was waiting for an answer now. He attempted to stir but found that his head and limbs seemed weighted and too heavy to move.

"Hmm?" he murmured dreamily, eyes still closed.

"I'm sorry to disturb you from your repose, General. But shouldn't we be going soon?" her soft voice was full of mirth, teasing, playful, especially when she uttered the word _General_. "Unless you want to camp here and leave in the morning."

He mumbled incoherently, reluctant to stir from his inertia. The sun's rays still enveloped his body in warmth and he was much too comfortable, and groggy, to move.

"Are you still sleeping?"

"Mm. No," he managed to say, the word still thick with drowsiness.

She began to tap his shoulder insistently and his eyes fluttered open finally. Rolling onto his back with a sigh he rubbed his eyes and fixed his gaze on her, blinking against the brightness of the sun. She was sitting beside him, shiny ebony hair still wet. Golden rays seemed to envelope her in a glowing haze, giving the vision of her an almost supernatural appearance. She looked like a goddess and he had to suppress a dreamy sigh as he stared up at her lovely face, remembering how she touched him in his dream, overwhelmed by a wave of desire that swept through him and feeling a burning in his belly.

"Need a hand?"

The small hand reached down toward him and she leaned over, casting a shadow across his face. A blush began to creep up into his cheeks as he became consciously aware of her closeness and the stiffness between his legs. Images from his dream were still vivid in his mind and he felt his face begin to flame. He blinked and shook his head, rolling away from her and onto his side, placing his palms on the grass to slowly help himself up to sitting. Still sun-dazed and in a stupor from the lingering effects of his slumber he remained where he sat for a few moments, trying to clear his mind.

He tugged his tunic down, making sure that it was covering his groin. That wasn't something he wanted her to see. At this point she was merely a comrade and, dare he say, a good friend. And he was supposed to be a man of dignity and control.

"Did you have a nice nap?"

"Yes," he answered vaguely, turning back to her once he felt the heat in his face dissipate.

"You must have been tired. It's because you get up so early. The sun isn't even up as early as you," she teased, poking him gently.

"Mm."

Usually he would rise to the occasion and tease her right back; but now he was only vaguely aware that she had made a remark to him. The feelings and sensations from the dream were still in his body's sense memory, intoxicating him as he gazed at her. She smiled at him. How he loved to see her smile. He couldn't take his eyes off of her lips or stop the soft sigh of longing that passed through his own as he imagined his mouth covering hers in a passionate kiss.

"Shang?"

She was staring at him quizzically and Shang snapped out of his daydream, realizing that he'd momentarily drifted away again and was now gawking at her.

"Are you awake yet?"

"Sort of."

He rose to his feet, having quickly made up his mind. What he needed was a dip in the cold stream. They could afford to linger there for a little while longer.

"I'm going to take a swim. We'll be in Chang'an by tomorrow night even if we don't leave until morning. I'll be back in a little while and we can move out. We'll ride until sunset."

She grinned mischievously and saluted him playfully.

"Yes, General."

Retrieving a towel from his pack he made his way back to the stream and peeled his clothing off. He waded in and, with a sigh, immersed himself in the badly-needed cooling water.


	3. Waiting

Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

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**Waiting**_ (Theme #27, overflow)_

Her lips curved into a smile as she watched him stride off toward the stream. Why he decided to swim again was beyond her, especially when they were supposed to be moving on toward their destination. He was up before the sun rose every morning, finished with his workouts, bath and everything else long before she even stirred.

Well, he did seem to be in an odd mood today.

She leaned back and rested on her elbows, closing her eyes against the high afternoon glare. Turning her face up to the sun she allowed the warm rays to bathe her face. Her hair would dry in no time.

Her thoughts returned to Shang and his odd behavior moments before. He'd just woken up and he was probably merely out of it. But he seemed to be staring at her with the oddest expression on his face. Did he return her feelings, as she hoped he would?

With a sigh, she shook her head at her own foolishness. It was wishful thinking on her part.

Still, after spending more time with her strong, dignified former captain she'd had the opportunity to observe many other facets of him, even his vulnerabilities. She recalled their parting in the Imperial City and the first time he came to her home to return her father's helmet. How nervous and tongue-tied he'd been then, barely managing to fumble out a few foolish words. So different from the Shang she knew who was composed, in control, with a commanding presence that had mesmerized her when she was first acquainted with him.

Then again, she'd been nervous and flustered at that first dinner too, pouring too much tea into his cup in her distraction. A soft giggle escaped her lips as she thought of it. At the time she'd been mortified as the hot liquid spilled over the sides of the teacup, forming a messy pool as it dripped onto the table. The incident had brought back painful memories of her failed session with the matchmaker and the heat from her deep blush remained in her cheeks for a long while, even after the tea had been cleaned up and they'd returned to their meal.

But the fiasco had broken the ice. They both relaxed visibly, even managing to sneak glances at one another. At first they had both nervously avoided looking at each other. His reason for that was probably genuine uneasiness. Hers was the fear that if she met his gaze she wouldn't be able to look away. And gawking into Shang's eyes would not have been appropriate behavior for the family dinner table.

A couple of months had passed since the dinner. He'd returned to their home to visit on many occasions in that time and they'd become comfortable and at ease with each other, like old, dear friends. Outside of military camp she'd found Shang to be surprisingly laid back and easy to talk to. He was smart and he had a sense of humor. Their mutual teasing of each other was fun, almost flirtatious at times. She couldn't deny how much she enjoyed ribbing him, a feeling that she couldn't define bubbling up inside of her when she got the upper hand and saw his reactions, apparent in the expressions that flitted across his face before he finally retaliated. Their dance of verbal sparring somehow made her feel closer to him, and he took her jibes well. Of course he could turn the tables on her as easily as she could do it to him, often astonishing her with his deft responses.

But she took that in stride. No one could be the victor all the time; and she could take a joke as well as he could.

Although she knew she would miss her family she'd been delighted when he'd arrived this last time with a summons from the Emperor. A mission. She'd been thrilled at the chance it presented for her to spend more time with him, at least on the journey to Chang'an. She didn't know what would happen after they reached the Imperial City. But she relished the time she had with him now, even though she wasn't sure what she expected, or hoped, would develop between them.

The soft sound of his footsteps in the grass interrupted her thoughts and she opened her eyes, sitting up. Her heart began to flutter and her breath quickened when she took in the sight of his bare bronze chest and arms as he walked toward her, his tunic slung casually over his shoulder. Smooth sun-kissed skin and hard, defined muscles like bands, as if he were custom-made by a sculptor. He was the first and only man that she'd ever seen bare-backed. And what a treat it was that first day of camp and every view she had after that. Broad, statuesque and muscular, she couldn't take her eyes off of him when he demonstrated martial arts moves and fighting techniques for the untrained recruits, always shirtless to her great delight. Probably one of the reasons she didn't catch on as quickly as she would have liked.

She blinked rapidly, breathless as she noted the way he strutted as he walked toward her on thick, powerful legs. So confident in himself.

_He probably knows how handsome and well-built he is._

Stray drops of water dotted his skin, glinting in the sunlight. Pushing away the thought, she stood up as his shadow fell over her. A blush crept to her cheeks as she wondered if he'd noticed the way her eyes were glued to him and she suddenly felt vulnerable. She quickly turned and moved toward Khan, busying herself with her departure preparations and allowing the heat in her face to dissipate.

"I'm almost ready."

She glanced at him. His tunic was on now and he was standing by his own stallion.

"I'm going to make you wait now," he remarked with a grin.

He fixed her with a quizzical look when she didn't respond, wondering at her failure to tease him back, she realized. But her mind was too flustered at the moment to come up with a good retort.

Maybe later she would return the favor.


	4. Heroine

Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

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**Heroine**_ (Theme: #7, superstar) _

She was a legend already.

As they leisurely trotted through one of the larger towns on the way to Chang'an the village folk began to spill out into the street to view the two mounted riders in Imperial armor. Spying the long hair and petite figure of Mulan, they immediately recognized her to be the woman warrior that had saved the Emperor and the Middle Kingdom. Shouts of "_Fa Mulan, China's honored heroine"_ and "_the famous woman warrior"_ from the gathered throng filled the air.

Shang glanced at her with a hint of a smile on his face. "It looks like you're famous already."

Mulan nodded, keeping up her pleasant façade. But inside she cringed. These villagers reminded her of the people in her own village; folks that witnessed her public humiliation by the matchmaker, who clacked their tongues at Fa Zhou's odd, disgraceful daughter.

"_It is more profitable to raise geese than daughters_," was one time-honored phrase that she frequently heard quoted. "And there's your example of that."

She had always considered herself lucky that her father was different. It was said that many families were glad to be rid of girls. But Fa Zhou loved and doted on his only child. In the Fa household there was no talk of daughters being outward moving and only benefiting the future husband's family. And despite her parents' concern that she was a "late bloomer", her grandmother never worried and often reassured them that their daughter would find her own way. The only time her father had wavered was during their last dinner together before she ran away to take his place in the army. That was the first and last time he told her to learn her place; and it had come from his anger and disappointment in the events of that day.

Upon her return home, nothing much had changed among their neighbors. There was a festival held in town in her honor and the prefect praised her, proclaiming that Fa Mulan had brought honor to their town. But it all felt superficial to her. Saving the Emperor and receiving praise from him meant that they grudgingly had to acknowledge her accomplishments. But deep inside, they were the same men and women who had called her dishonorable before she left home and continued to hold that opinion of her.

And she was uncomfortable with such attention. Although there were moments when she doubted herself, admitting the more selfish reasons for taking her father's place in the army, her main purpose for doing it was to save his life. And she helped her troop and the Emperor because it was the right thing to do. Did she deserve such attention lavished on her for that? Shang was born to be a soldier and his whole life was dedicated to defending his Emperor and doing what was right. Why was it different for her after she only did it once?

Children ran alongside of them now, excited to see the two Imperial soldiers, one of them a woman of all things. But they were very sweet and she slowed her horse to talk to them, answering their questions about fighting and her adventures, feeling better as she became more engaged in conversing with the kids. Young children didn't judge. They were too innocent to know that they should.

One little girl wanted to know if the general was her husband. She felt her face begin to flush and dared to chance a sidelong look at Shang, who was doing a very good job of turning several shades of red as well.

Laughing warmly, she turned back to the little girl.

"No, he's General Li, my commanding officer."

Shang was getting as much attention as she was, she noticed now. Everyone knew that he was the brave commanding officer who had saved the Emperor with her.

They were both relieved when they reached the edge of town and quickened to a canter as the terrain opened up ahead of them. After covering a good deal of distance they stopped to water the horses and to rest.

He joined her where she sat in the grass after watering his white stallion.

"Are you okay?"

She looked up at him with a start, then nodded.

"Yes. Just a little tired," she lied.

The truth was that she was still brooding about that day with the matchmaker; it was occupying her mind ever since they'd been in that village and had prompted her spirits to sink considerably. But she wasn't ready to tell Shang about her past humiliation. They weren't such close friends yet. And even if they were, she wasn't sure she would ever want him to know about that disgraceful episode.

"It must be difficult to get so much praise in one place and then get none," he murmured. "I can compliment you now if that would make you feel better."

A ghost of a smile crept to her face at his attempt to cheer her up with a little quip.

"Thanks."

"Seriously, are you alright? You seem very down all of a sudden."

Again she nodded. "It's just strange. All the attention. I don't know if I'll ever get used to it."

"I thought…you seemed to be enjoying it."

"They're kind people," she answered with a shrug. "I wanted to be gracious. And the children are very sweet."

"Yes, and a little too inquisitive," he laughed. "But they seemed to love you."

She nodded and raked a hand through her hair absently, frowning in deep thought. Then she turned back to him. He was watching her closely and the concern that she saw in his gaze made her realize that her posture was sagging with the weight of her mood.

"You seemed to get a lot of attention, too, General," she commented, wanting to turn the focus away from her.

He shrugged. "I guess. They equate the two of us."

_They thought we were husband and wife. _

It had embarrassed both of them equally.

"Well, you did teach me everything I know," she replied. "I couldn't have done those things without your excellent training."

His hand settled on hers. It was only meant to be a friendly, appreciative, even comforting gesture but his touch sent a thrill through her body. Without thinking twice about it, she turned her palm upward and laced her fingers through his, an involuntary smile spreading across her features as she gazed at him. Her breath caught in her throat momentarily when he looked into her eyes and squeezed her hand.

For a moment he seemed to lean toward her and she wondered, with anticipation and some trepidation, if he would kiss her. She'd never been kissed before. What would he think of her if she let him? It wasn't really proper for an unmarried young woman to even be out alone in the streets of town with a man; and they were in the middle of a forest. A part of her longed for it, for some sign that he returned the feelings she had for him.

But he only released her hand and reached up to sweep a stray lock of hair off of her forehead. He drew his hand back then, turning his face away from her to gaze straight ahead.

Her feelings were a jumbled mixture of hurt, disappointment and relief. But she pushed them to the back of her mind.

"Maybe we should get going," she suggested, trying to seem casual.

He nodded.

"Yes. We can avoid the villages if it makes you uncomfortable to be surrounded by crowds," he offered, standing up and holding out his hand to help her up.

A grateful smile crossed her features as she grasped it.

"Thank you, but it's okay. I think I can handle it."


	5. At Sunrise

Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

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**At Sunrise**_ (Theme #12, in a good mood) _

"Mulan."

She groaned and pulled the blanket over her head, attempting to tune out Shang's voice as he continued to call her. It didn't even appear to be that light out yet. What was he in such a good mood about at such an hour anyway? He sounded downright perky this morning and it was more than she could take. At any other time a perky Shang would be jarring; now, early in the morning and before she was ready to wake up, it was surreal.

"Come on. Up, Mulan."

Refusing to answer, she flipped onto her stomach abruptly and buried her head in her arms. She lifted it back up just as suddenly when she heard the rustle of material to her right. Two lumps were pushing in the side of the tent and she realized that it was Shang's fingers, attempting to poke her through it.

"Mu-la-an," he sing-songed and nearly sent her into a fit of giggles, despite her irritation at his rousing her so early and his bizarre behavior.

Had he been drinking? It wasn't like him, especially not in the morning. But she'd never seen him this way. Maybe she didn't know him as well as she thought.

There was a rustling sound at her feet now as the flaps of her tent fluttered and she stiffened. No, he wouldn't dare open them and come in there. The tent was too small for him and it would not at all be proper. And Shang was a man of rules and tradition.

"I know you're awake by now, Mulan."

His voice was soft and teasing as he crooned her name. Her lips pursed together as she bit back her laughter and stubbornly decided that she would not budge an inch with him annoying her in this way. She heard what sounded like dirt being kicked around and vaguely wondered what he was doing. A moment later she screamed in surprise as her shelter caved in, dropping on top of her. He'd taken the wooden stakes out of the ground and had collapsed the tent, now laughing somewhere on the other side of the material. A part of her felt like laughing with him; she'd never seen this cute, playful, even immature side of him and it delighted her. But she'd never let him know it. Not yet.

With difficulty she scrambled out of the tangled covering of canvas and silk, cursing and threatening him. Freeing her head, she crawled out on her belly and swung her legs out from under the mass. Forcing herself not to smile, she sat up and glared at Shang, who was grinning from where he was crouched down in front of the tent entrance; or where it would have been had it still been standing.

"What's wrong with you?" she demanded irritably. "Have you been dipping into the rice wine this morning?"

He laughed at her and she sent her bare foot flying at his exposed shin in a well-directed kick. Catching it as it came toward him, he seized her ankle and pinned it against his thigh. She shrieked as he began to tickle the bottom of her foot, writhing in agony and trying desperately to yank it away. Her sides were beginning to ache from laughing so hard and he took pity on her, letting up and releasing his grasp.

"Shh, you're going to wake up every creature out here."

"Good," she retorted through her laughter, sitting up and composing herself again. "If I have to be up, so does everyone else. What are you in such a good mood about anyway?"

He shrugged and scrambled over to sit beside her. "It's going to be another beautiful day today."

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow quizzically. He was staring off into the distance and she turned and followed his gaze to see what he was looking at so fixedly. It was at that moment that she realized that dawn was just beginning. She gasped, completely taken aback as she beheld the beauty of the gradually changing sky. The sun was starting to peek out from behind its hiding place on the horizon and to begin its ascent.

"I bet you've never even seen a sunrise," he teased gently as the soft glow of orange rose higher, slowly brightening the sky.

"Yes I have. At Wu Zhong."

"Oh, yes," he laughed. "Only you didn't get up for it. As I remember it, you were still up from the night before."

"Shh, I want to watch," she whispered to him.

It was the most beautiful sunrise she'd ever seen and she was shocked and moved that Shang had gone to such lengths, and methods, to share it with her. Or maybe he just wanted to torture her, making her get up hours earlier than she usually did.

They sat together in comfortable silence until the sun had risen.

"See? Wasn't that worth waking up for?" he commented smugly, as the light of day spread over them.

Mulan wasn't sure whether she wanted to hit him for his smugness and for waking her up so early or kiss him for his sweet intentions. She had no idea what had made him decide that she absolutely had to watch the sunrise with him; but it was a surprisingly romantic gesture and something she hadn't expected Shang to be capable of. He would never admit that this was his reason and his method of rousing her left something to be desired, an attempt to mask his true intention. But she knew it and opted for the second choice, leaning in and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

It was the quickest, most chaste kiss ever, but she blushed at her own boldness nonetheless, especially when she pulled back and saw the astonished expression on Shang's face.

Not wanting to think about how shameful he must have thought her for such inappropriate behavior, she recovered quickly from her discomfort by hauling off and socking him in the arm.

"But don't you ever wake me up like that, ever again!"

An expression of complete confusion had clouded his handsome visage now, but he quickly regained his composure and rubbed his upper arm, grinning.

"Wow, that's quite a punch you pack."

"Oh, shut up."

The fact that she'd had to get up so early still needled her, as did his commenting on the punch and complete refusal to acknowledge the kiss. Well, not refusal. He just hadn't said a word about it.

"Mulan."

"What?"

"I'm sorry I woke you up so early and in such a rude manner," he apologized, but there was mirth underneath his words.

He reached out and took her hand.

"Really, I am. Forgive me?"

"I'll think about it," she answered obstinately, schooling her face into a serious mask.

Rich, warm laughter rumbled out of him. It made her want to laugh again too. In her heart she already forgave him, deeply touched that he'd wanted her to be awake to watch the sunrise with him. But she didn't want to let him know it yet; and he deserved just a little bit of guilt for rousing her at such an ungodly hour.

To her great shock and pleasure, he leaned in now and kissed her tenderly on the lips. As he pulled back again she turned away to hide the blush and broad smile on her face so he wouldn't see it just yet.


	6. Night Vigil, Fevered Dreams

Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

A/N: Two themes included in this chapter, as they occur back to back.

* * *

**Night Vigil** _(Theme #26, if only I could make you mine) _

The night wore on and still the rain came down in torrents, threatening to wash away everything in its path. The lantern burned steadily inside their small shelter despite the pounding sounds that covered them as the rain pelted the sides of the tent. Shang moved over to the flaps in front and ensured that the ties were secure. With the change in the air and the onslaught of the raging storms, Mulan had succumbed to illness, no doubt brought on by the sudden shift in the weather. He had to make certain that she remained warm and dry.

Sighing, he returned to her side. Her condition hadn't taken a turn for the better. Raging fever gripped her and she writhed in her sleep under the layers of blankets, mumbling deliriously, incoherent words that he couldn't understand. Shang kept a worried vigil over her, a swollen waterskin and a cloth beside him. Hoping to bring her temperature down he wet the cloth and began to bathe her forehead. Then he soaked it once more, wrung it out and laid it across her brow.

Her face was pale and drawn, and there were dark circles under her eyes from her illness and the nights of fitful sleep. Raven hair was tousled and splayed in all directions.

Bringing both hands up to his face he rubbed his eyes and shook his head, fighting the sleepiness that threatened to overtake him.

She had thankfully become still now, looking more peaceful, and he removed the damp cloth from her brow. Remaining awake and by her side, he watched her as she slept, staring at her lovely visage. He didn't move a muscle for a long time, mesmerized and resisting an impulse to rest his hand against her cheek and trace the contours of her face.

_I love you, Mulan.  
_

The words had just popped into his head, startling him with the ease at which they occurred to him.

For a long time, he gazed at her as she slept, thinking of that phrase which had so naturally come to mind and reflecting on their friendship that was still so new but felt as if it had existed forever. There was no denying the stirrings and sensations in his body that he experienced when she was near, just thinking about her prompted them. But there was much more to it than that.

He'd never known a woman as intelligent as Mulan. She was multifaceted and complex and he loved talking to her. Their conversations were stimulating and even their mutual teasing was something he relished, that he looked forward to. A perfect sparring partner verbally as well as physically. And there were so many other things, things that he couldn't put a name to. Spending so much time on the road together they had come to discover many details about one another. They shared similar childhood experiences as well as family background. Had they grown up in closer geographic proximity to one another their parents might very well have arranged a betrothal.

A vague ache of disappointment settled in his heart as the reality of their situation crept into the forefront of his mind with this last thought. In another world he could love her and even ask her to marry him, on his own.

If only things were that easy, he thought with a sigh. He could choose Mulan to be his and cherish her for his lifetime. But everything was complicated by tradition, antiquated customs that shrouded the simple, natural instinct of a man and woman to desire and love one another. A strict moral code had governed the pairing of couples for centuries and would continue to do so. It was impossible to get around that. Either a matchmaker or some kind of go-between was required. Then there were the letters that had to be written to the family and all sorts of rituals that had to occur before a young man and woman finally consummated their vows to one another.

They were already defying tradition by traveling alone together, even if they were comrades in arms and under Imperial order. Young Chinese men and women didn't go anywhere alone; they weren't even supposed to be out together in the streets of town. Yet here they were in the middle of nowhere, just the two of them.

Still, he was in the Emperor's favor, they both were. It was he who encouraged Shang to go after her when she rode off after saving his life in the Imperial City.

_The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all._

A smile flitted across his face as he watched her and thought of those words. It was clear that the man advocated the match. Surely his approval meant more than any matchmaker. But how could he ask for such a thing? Perhaps after their mission, if an opportunity arose…

She mumbled fretfully as her slumber became disturbed once more, and he reached out without thinking about it and placed his hand against the side of her face, relishing the feel of her soft skin under his calloused hand. His thumb absently traced small circles where it rested on her cheek. In her sleep she seemed to turn and lean into his touch. Or maybe he was imagining it.

"Mulan?" he whispered, leaning over her as he noticed that she had started to shiver uncontrollably.

Wanting to stop her shaking, he bundled her up in the layers of blankets and scooped her up onto his lap, clinching her against him in an embrace, her head cradled against his chest. She twisted toward him, still asleep, and he shifted as his body reacted to the feel of her face pressed against his stomach, nuzzling him.

His clothing was becoming damp, he noticed after a long while. He cupped a hand under her chin and turned her face toward him. Tears had begun to spill from her eyes and his hand moved up to gently wipe them away.

Leaning down, he tenderly kissed the top of her head. Her hair had dampened too, not from tears but from sweat, and he sighed with relief.

Her fever was beginning to break.

**

* * *

**

**Fevered Dreams **_(Theme #3, jolt)_

Cold. She was so very cold. Her small frame shuddered uncontrollably from each sudden blast of icy wind that reverberated through her body. Attempting to make herself as small as possible she gathered the thin blanket tighter around her exposed body.

But it did nothing to stop the incessant shivering or hide her from the stares of her comrades. Former comrades. She had no shirt on. Only a bandage wound around her torso shielded her bare breasts from the cruel mountain chill and the view of every one of the soldiers in the troop.

Worse than anything were the expressions in the eyes that were on her now. Shang's hard, cold eyes, narrowed in fury at her masquerade, her lie. Shock in the eyes of the three soldiers that had been her friends. Disgust in those of the others. But she didn't look at any of them; only her captain.

Her head was raised, eyes meeting Shang's, her leader and teacher, a man that she'd come to respect and care for deeply. She kept her gaze fixed on him, desperately hoping to somehow reach his heart, the raw frigid dampness of the snow beneath her legs only vaguely in her awareness.

The blade of her father's sword glinted in the moonlight as the captain raised it, preparing to lower it down across her neck, punishment for her deception; for failing to learn and keep her place. She had hoped that just maybe he would understand her reason for doing it, and perhaps forgive her. He'd lost his own father; surely he could relate to her willingness to do anything she could to save hers. It was the only way, she'd had no choice. But there was no understanding in his hard black eyes, and no forgiveness.

Resigned to her fate, she lowered her head and prepared to meet her end, her heart heavy and aching with sadness and regret.

A sob choked itself out of her throat and she opened her eyes with a start, becoming aware that she was drenched in sweat, tears streaming down her face. She was bundled up in blankets and strong, warm arms held her. Her head was cradled against a broad, muscular chest.

"Mulan."

She twisted her head and blinked up at Shang. Even in the shadow that cast itself over them she could see that his face was wrought with worry, his eyes concerned and caring, so unlike that night in the mountains. Though they had never spoken of it, the incident was over, in the past, and things were different between them now; yet for some reason tonight it haunted her fevered dreams again, causing her to relive it as if it were happening in that instant.

"Are you alright? You were having a bad dream."

"Yes," she whispered, turning her face and burying it in his already damp tunic, allowing it to soak up the rest of her tears.

He stroked her hair and she turned to look up at him again. His hand moved to her forehead, checking her temperature. Unsatisfied he leaned down and pressed his mouth to the spot that his hand had covered a moment before. An ache settled in her as she longed for his lips to move down to her mouth. She wasn't sure if she was imagining it when she felt him softly kiss her brow. He raised his head and began to run his fingers through her hair again before she had a chance to process it.

"Your fever broke. Hopefully you'll sleep soundly now, without anymore nightmares."

The expression on his face had morphed into one of remorse and anguish. He untangled his fingers from her hair and let them drift to her face. She closed her eyes with a soft sigh as he stroked her cheek gently, allowing herself to lean into his touch and relax against him.

"Oh, Mulan," he whispered, his fingertips lovingly tracing the contour of her face. He gently brushed away the damp hair that clung to her skin. "I wasn't ever going to hurt you. I could never harm you. Please believe that."

She nodded, unable to fathom how he had guessed what her nightmare was about. "How…?"

"You were talking in your sleep."

"What did I say?"

"The same things that you said to me that night…in the mountains."

"Oh," she answered sheepishly.

"I'm sorry that I frightened you so," he murmured softly.

"It's in the past."

"Still. I regret the way I behaved to you back then. Forgive me."

Guilt was painted all over his face now and she desperately wanted to assuage it. After all, she didn't hold it against him. He had been in a tough spot that night, with a difficult decision to make. And his choice had been to spare her. Perhaps he understood everything she hoped he would. Or maybe he had decided it would not be honorable to kill a young girl who had saved his life and the lives of their comrades. Whatever made him choose his actions, it was behind them and it no longer mattered. They were dear friends now.

"There's nothing to forgive," she answered softly, managing to free a hand from the tangle of blankets around her and reaching up to stroke his cheek.

He tightened his arms around her and gathered her up against his body, his hand cupped against the back of her head, mashing her face into his chest with the strength of his hug. She relished the closeness, the affection in his embrace, his warmth, the scent of him. She looked up into his handsome visage again as he slackened his hold on her, longing for him to lean down and cover her mouth with his own. How could he stand to be so close to her and not kiss her?

She suppressed a soft sigh. It was just as well. Though Shang's feelings were becoming very clear, they weren't husband and wife yet, and the rules dictated that it wouldn't be proper. And Shang was not someone who would turn his back on his upbringing.

And neither was she really.


	7. Rumors, Troublemaker

Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

A/N: I included the next two themes together in this chapter. Both are very short and occur in sequence.

* * *

**Rumors** _(Theme #2, news; letter) _

It didn't take long for the news to spread throughout the village, nor for the gossip to start.

Fa Mulan - the clumsy girl who had set the matchmaker on fire, the disgrace whom the matchmaker publicly declared would never bring honor to her family, the outrageous girl who had stolen her father's armor and had run away from home to impersonate a man and a soldier – Fa Mulan was going to be a bride. And she wasn't getting married to just anyone; she was marrying the very handsome and renowned General Li Shang, a noble gentleman with means and a very impressive lineage.

How a girl like that had ensnared such a man was anybody's guess; but many ventured one anyway.

"She seduced him," declared one person.

"Oh, come on," snorted someone else. "How would _she_ seduce a man? A girl that knows nothing about being graceful and feminine."

"Anyway, they're together all the time. And before the wedding."

"Rather disgraceful, if you ask me."

"Completely improper. I didn't see it for myself, but I heard it from a very reliable source that they were kissing, too."

"Hmph, and I'm sure they did more than that in his camp. Why else would he have spared her life?"

Snickers and tsk-tsk's could be heard from the swarm of gossipers whenever conversation turned to that detail. Everyone knew that when Mulan saved the Emperor in the Imperial City she had appeared as a woman; which meant that she'd been found out before that, in the general's camp. He had been merely a captain then, but he was still the commanding officer. The law called for her execution after her deception and treason. And as the highest ranking officer of the troop it fell to him to carry out that law; yet he hadn't.

Of course he didn't execute her, the tongues wagged. As loyal and traditional as he might have been, he was still a man, with needs; vulnerable to a woman's beauty and wiles. And that's why he was marrying her. Perhaps he really had fallen in love with her afterward, seduced by this ripe young girl who gave herself to him in exchange for her life. Maybe she was expecting a baby and he was doing right by her, was another supposition. It was well known that General Li Shang was a very honorable man who always behaved in an upright and considerate manner.

Or maybe Fa Zhou had threatened to run him through with his own sword if he didn't do right by his daughter and marry her straight away. Sure he was injured and lame; but he was still a father.

The young bride-to-be knew what was being said about her. Often she was tempted to speak up but refrained. It would only make things worse. Had her parents or grandma heard any of this? Were they aware that the entire village talked about her in this way?

And what about Shang? A sense of alarm swept through her when she thought of her fiancé overhearing the scathing remarks about her, most of them completely false but one of them painfully true. She never told him about that day at the matchmaker's. He probably thought she'd passed the test like any other honorable and worthy young woman. Her deepest source of shame was coming back to haunt her thanks to a bunch of malicious, gossiping hens. They already had plans to get married; but would he change his mind if he knew that she couldn't recite the final admonition?

"What's wrong?" Shang asked as she passed through the gate to their home one day after they were engaged. He'd arrived while she was in town and had been waiting for her to return. Her face softened and the corners of her mouth turned up slightly when she saw him.

"Nothing. I don't want to talk about it."

"Are you sure? You look so upset."

She studied him thoughtfully for a moment. He loved her; and it was silly of her to believe that he would stop just like that. Besides, it was better that he hear it from her than from gossiping villagers, she decided.

"Shang," she began nervously. "If you're in town, you may overhear talk…I never told you about what happened when I went to the matchmaker."

He stared at her with his characteristic quizzical expression, one eyebrow raised. "No, you didn't. I would assume it was routine…"

"No," she answered softly, shaking her head. "It wasn't."

An amused glint came into his eyes and he smiled. "Well, now you've piqued my curiosity. You have to tell me."

She nodded and swallowed hard. Gesturing toward the magnolia tree, she began to walk in that direction. Shang fell into step beside her and they sat together on the stone bench underneath the tree, looking down at the pond.

Her face was already hot with the humiliation she felt just preparing to talk about it. Mulan closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She opened her eyes and smiled when she felt Shang take her hand and squeeze it. Then she began to recount the events of that fateful day.

**

* * *

**

**Troublemaker** _(Theme: #5, ano sa (hey, you know)) _

He still hadn't stopped laughing since she'd finished the story of her session at the matchmaker's and the red in Mulan's face still hadn't subsided.

"Mu…Mulan," he sputtered through hoots of laughter. "I can't…I can't believe…you set the matchmaker…on fire…"

She shifted angrily on the stone bench, turning her back to him. Every time it seemed as if he'd finally gotten a hold of himself he would suddenly burst into another fit of laughter.

There was no way that she could begin to explain the hurt and humiliation she'd felt that day; that she felt now that it had been dredged up again. And he was more amused than she'd ever seen him and making her feel worse.

His hands were on her shoulders now, coaxing her to turn to him. "Oh, come on…"

Grandma poked her head out and called them inside for lunch at that moment. Mulan shook him off and stood up abruptly, marching off ahead of him.

It wasn't until after they had finished with their meal and returned to the garden that she finally spoke to him. Shang looped an arm around her shoulder and led her back to the stone bench under the magnolia tree. He clasped her hand in his as they sat down and squeezed it, then brought it to his lips and kissed it gently. For the first time since she'd told him the story she looked up into his face.

"I'm glad to see that you gave someone else trouble besides me," he quipped, his eyes full of mirth. "Your three friends stirred up a lot of mischief too, but Ping was the bane of my existence in those early days at Wu Zhong. I see Mulan wasn't any different at that time."

Her cheeks flamed as she thought of those first days of camp when she joined the army in her father's place as Ping. In the first two days alone she'd caused a camp wide brawl and knocked everyone to the ground with her wooden staff as she flailed around during their first _bo_ lesson. That wasn't all her fault; Ling had slipped a bug down the back of her shirt. Still, there were other things, like when Shang caught her cheating in archery, slipping the moon fruit onto her arrow _before_ knocking it on the bow. In some ways she supposed she really did behave disgracefully. She could only imagine the headaches she'd caused him. Yet he'd been patient and tolerant with her.

"Sorry. It wasn't my fault you know," she replied, pouting slightly. "Well, not always."

As she added those words her lips curled into a smile. Releasing her hand, he reached up and tucked his hand under her chin, regarding her with tenderness in his dark eyes.

"Ah, that's the smile I love."

"I know it sounds funny…sometimes I can laugh at it…but it really was a humiliating experience for me. It's painful to think about…"

"The cricket bathing in the tea is priceless…"

Mulan groaned. He chuckled lightly and lovingly caressed her cheek.

"Hey, you know it doesn't matter, Mulan. I don't care if you can't recite the final admonition. I'm going to be married to the only wife that can recite Sun Tzu."

He sounded almost proud.

"And this pleases you?"

"Of course. What do I care about the final admonition? I'm a military man."


	8. Celebrations

Summary: One-shot with five sections centering around five of the 30 Kisses themes, post marriage of Shang and Mulan.

* * *

**Celebrations** _(Theme #_'_s 11, 4, 8, 29 and 23)_

_**Part 1. Gardenias (theme #11, gardenia)**_

It was a symbolic activity. The Double Ninth Festival was an auspicious day, traditionally celebrated by the ascent to a great height. Whether climbing a mountain or to the top of a high tower, it was done in hopes of prosperity for the future. Members of the nobility, the Emperors themselves, would climb the highest mountain peaks on this Ninth Day of the Ninth Month.

Shang and Mulan also had made a representative journey up to the top of the highest hill near the Li compound on this day, the first Double Ninth Festival that they were celebrating as husband and wife.

The chrysanthemums were in bloom at this time, and they had become a focus of the holiday as well. People drank wine or tea made from them, admired them where they grew and decorated their homes with the bright and cheerful flowers. His new wife, in the spirit of the festival, had brewed them chrysanthemum tea that morning and their house was decorated with vases and wreaths of the flowers.

Strangely enough though, Mulan smelled like gardenias today, not chrysanthemums. Shang loved gardenias. The fragrant flowers grew all around the grounds of the Li home and he wondered at the strong scent of them on his wife, a lovely and intoxicating fragrance.

As they sat together at the top of the hill, arms around each other, Shang turned and leaned in, nuzzling her in the arc between her collar bone and her chin.

"Mm, you smell beautiful. Did you bathe in gardenias?" he asked somewhat facetiously.

"I thought it might entice you," she purred coyly.

He sat up and blinked at her in surprise.

"I bathed with the petals in the water. Lots of them," she continued, reaching out a hand toward his face.

She seductively ran a finger slowly along the bottom of his chin. He felt his heart begin to race and the heat rise in his belly, and lower, from the combination of the look in her eye, her touch and the intoxicating scent of her that was making him dizzy.

Leaning in to nuzzle her again he brought his mouth to her neck, beginning to nibble on the pale skin of her smooth, elegant throat. Just under the surface he could feel her pulse as it quickened. A jolt went through his body and he grabbed her shoulders, pushing her down onto the grass and pouncing on her. As she wrapped her arms and legs around him, pinning him against her, he began to kiss her passionately. It wasn't long before the hushed stillness of the sunny afternoon was pierced with moans and squeals from the top of that hill.

Later, as the servants brought out chrysanthemum wine and husband and wife sat together admiring the yellow flowers that were arranged on the window ledge, Shang decided that chrysanthemums were indeed lovely flowers.

But he still preferred gardenias.

* * *

**_Part 2. Family (theme #4, our distance and that person)_**

"Your mother hates me," his wife sighed in frustration.

"She's traditional," Shang responded, rolling onto his side and raising himself up to lean on one elbow. "And she's upset that we spent the Double Ninth Festival alone instead of with the entire family. Holidays are for family."

"Yes," she replied with a bitter laugh. "And I instigated you to go along with spending the day alone."

Mulan lay flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling, her expression tense and deeply troubled. The lantern cast very dim light in the room and threw shadows over her face, making her appear darker, sadder.

"Besides, it's not only the Double Ninth Festival. She's hated me since the moment you brought me here."

He propped his head against his hand and reached over, caressing her cheek with his free hand.

"I guess she's like all mothers," he suggested with a slight chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood. "No woman is good enough for her son."

She shook her head. "No, it's me. I'm not a traditional woman who stayed at home and learned domestic duties for the day I became a wife."

"You're much more than that," he murmured gently, doing his best to soothe her. He became unhappy when she was; and he also really didn't want to have an argument with her over his mother, especially in their bed of all places.

"Shang, you don't see it. The way she regards me with such disgust…I'm miserable around her…it's so obvious how she disapproves of me. During Qi Xi she was sending me death glares when I went out with your sisters to perform the ritual…"

"Mulan," he interrupted her with an exasperated sigh. "Please. Let's not argue about my mother."

"We're not arguing, but…"

She fell silent at the stern look that he gave her. His face softened and he leaned over, kissing her tenderly. He didn't know why he had become so nettled all of a sudden and a part of him did notice that his mother was somewhat unfair to Mulan. But he tried not to think about it; she was his mother and the woman of highest status in the household. This was a subject he hated. And now she was crying. Reaching out, he gently brushed away the tears that had begun to spill from her eyes.

"Come on, Mulan, don't sulk. Look, from now on we'll just keep her happy and make sure to spend all of the holidays with family, celebrating as she wishes. It's the way it should be."

"Okay," she whispered.

Shang kissed her again and went to take her into his arms, but she turned away from him, rolling onto her side and giving him her back.

"I'm not in the mood," she muttered.

Closing his eyes, he rolled onto his back with a sigh of frustration. This was a perfect example of why he hated for this subject to be dredged up when they were in bed together. She wasn't done sulking. He knew that she was upset, not only about his mother, but that he'd become cross with her all of a sudden. And the truth was that it hadn't taken much to convince him that day. He'd been as anxious, and as horny, as she was. And he had just as selfishly longed to spend the holiday alone with her, exactly as they had. Was he feeling guilty then? Was that why he'd suddenly become so irritated, even before she turned away from him?

The bed shifted as she got up and his eyes opened.

"Mulan?"

"I think I'm going to walk in the garden. Maybe I'll feel like sleeping afterward."

His wife stepped out of the room and Shang sat up, easing himself out of bed and drifting over to the window.

As he watched her strolling alone in the moonlight he pondered the situation in the Li household, recollecting the events that had occurred since the Double Ninth Festival; he'd had plenty of arguments with his mother since that day.

He sighed. Shang loved his new wife deeply; and he knew how much she loved him in return. They were content, happy, and a promising life together lay ahead of them.

No matter what happened, he didn't want anything, not even family, to cause a rift between them.

* * *

**_Part 3. Tradition (theme #8, our own world)_**

"It's not right," Lady Li had chided him the day right after the Double Ninth Festival, wagging a finger. "That girl doesn't do anything she's supposed to. Nothing good can come of it, Shang. A woman becomes part of her husband's family when she marries. That's the way it should be, the way it's always been. Yet she remains so attached to her own family, even after six months of marriage. She makes no effort to be a part of yours."

"She _is_ trying, Mother. It's difficult for her. Mulan isn't used to such a large family and she was always very close with her family. She was an only child…"

"And spoiled rotten. I bet it was her idea to spend the holiday alone with you."

Shang hadn't answered.

"I'll take your silence as an affirmative. And you continue spoiling her by letting her have her way."

"You don't have to make things even more difficult for her either," he had replied finally with a sigh.

"I? What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing. But you could refrain from frowning at her every time you see her."

"Hmph. If you were still a little boy talking to me in this way I'd smack you. But with your father gone..."

Her shoulders had sagged almost imperceptibly as she trailed off and Shang had immediately felt guilty.

"Mother, I'm sorry…"

"You're the man of the house now and you're in charge," she'd continued, finishing her thought. "But don't get so involved with your wife that you forget your duties to this family, Shang. All of us. It's not as if the two of you are living in your own world together, able to shut out everyone and everything else. We're still important and you have a responsibility to us."

"I know, Mother. And I apologize about the festival. From now on we'll spend all of the holidays with the entire family. I promise."

Shang sighed, shaking off the memory of that quarrel with Lady Li as he heard the door to their chamber open. Mulan stepped back into the room, finished with her walk, and padded over to him, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek.

"You didn't have to wait up for me."

"I wanted to," he answered, wrapping his arms around her. "I hate seeing you so upset. And I don't want us to go to bed angry."

She smiled. "I'm sorry for being moody. I'll try harder with your mother," she murmured, snaking her arms around his waist.

He kissed her forehead tenderly.

"Maybe she'll stop frowning at you so much then."

She laughed and leaned against him, resting her cheek against his chest.

"Thank you," she sighed.

"For what?"

"Saying that."

* * *

**_Part 4. Year_'s _End_ _(theme #29, the sound of waves)_**

Everyone went running across the garden. The main wing of the compound was in an uproar once again and the occupants of the Li household, high and low, all rushed to witness the spectacle upon hearing the sounds of shouting, cursing and invoking of the ancestors.

"Another argument between Master Li and First Mistress over that impossible wife of his," one young maid named Song gossiped. "That foolish girl needs to learn that no matter how much a man desires a woman, he gets fed up with his peace being disturbed all the time. He decides she isn't worth it then and moves on to greener pastures."

"Oh, and you're just waiting for him to move onto your pastures, aren't you?" quipped another maid scathingly. Her name was Lian and she was a few years older than Song. She leaned in and spoke confidentially to the younger girl. "Don't think we don't all see the way your eyes hang on Master Li when you're around him. As if he'd give you a second glance."

"Oh, quiet, you old-before-your-time hag," the younger girl retorted.

"Enough," an older maid named Yi-ling addressed both of them sharply. "Before you cause a scene out here."

With that, attention returned to the argument inside the house.

"Lady Li can be harsh sometimes," Yi-ling remarked softly. She was much older than any of the other servants and had worked in the Li household for many years, more than half her life in fact. For this reason she could be bold in her declarations, at least when she was out of earshot of her employers. "Still, Young Mistress ought to behave a little more humbly. Aside from being non-traditional, she is too proud and aloof and that is why First Mistress of the house dislikes her so."

It was an entertaining evening for everyone in the household except for the Master and his mother; and his pretty young wife, who had retreated back to their own rooms after lamenting that she didn't know what she had done wrong _this_ time, that she had done everything to honor Lady Li on this holiday and yet Mistress was still unhappy.

The Li sisters, the other wives of the old master General Li, along with their children, were all gathered outside with the servants, listening in and managing to catch glimpses of the heated argument through the window; that is until they were caught.

"Get the hell out of here, you hens!" roared Master Li Shang. "This isn't a damn show!"

He was livid as he chased them away and yanked the curtain across the window.

"Well," began Lian as the servants all traipsed back across the garden dejectedly, their fun for the evening prematurely ended. "I guess Master will be fighting with the new mistress for causing so many problems after he and his mother are finished."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Song remarked with a snort. "They'll probably kiss and make up quickly. They're at each other all the time. Thumping and squealing like animals."

She had lowered her voice at the last part, muttering, but her words were not lost on Yi-ling.

"Now, how would you know something like that?" she exclaimed. "Do you listen outside their door at night?"

Song refused to answer and when the others had moved off and it was only the two of them, the elder maid slapped the back of Song's head and began to scold her.

"Shame on you, spying on them! If the master knew he'd throw you in the well! I suppose you're the one making all the trouble, gossiping and whispering things to First Mistress about that poor young girl. Although why she would listen to you is beyond me," she added under her breath.

A sour expression spread across Song's face. "She is hardly fit to be a mistress in this house," she sniffed. "Even if she is China's heroine."

"Hmph! Aren't you the haughty little one? If you know what's good for you, you'll stop this nonsense. Even if Master Li ever got it into his head to start carrying on with you, that's all it would be; if you think that he would ever make you, a servant, one of his mistresses, you're dreaming. Whether you like it or not, Mistress Mulan is now a lady of this household. So you'd better just behave yourself before your antics backfire on you. Master Li's wife is very smart and shrewd, and not to be reckoned with, mark my words. The only thing you're accomplishing is making waves for everyone and upsetting First Mistress; you certainly aren't going to separate Master Li from his wife, if that's what you're hoping. The master is very much in love with her."

* * *

_**Part 5. New Year(theme #23, candy)**_

Several weeks had passed since the last holiday fiasco, though the argument between Shang and his mother was still fresh in everyone's mind. People didn't forget things like that easily; and they'd found the incident far too entertaining to let it go so quickly.

Now the next holiday had arrived. Shang kissed his wife reassuringly and rubbed her back as they prepared to go off to join the others. Her face was pale and tense, and he knew how nervous she was about this. Even his mother, in her own strange way, was equally so, he realized.

It was time for the New Year celebration, a time of new beginnings. Traditions of the holiday were centered around family and the possibilities of a fresh start; and all of these traditions were honored in the Li family. The house was cleaned, hair cut, new clothes made or purchased, accounts settled. An abundance of assorted candy and sweets was served, a favorite custom for the adults and children alike; eating sweets ensured the eater a sweet year. And a family union dinner of at least ten courses was served.

At first there was tension in the air on this New Year's Eve as everyone tiptoed around each other, stiffly pleasant and polite. No one wanted to bring in the New Year with a quarrel; it would be bad luck. But as the evening wore on, spirits became lighter and warmer as everyone drank wine, watched the children of the household play and began to relax and really enjoy the festivities. And Lady Li managed a small smile for her daughter-in-law as Mulan wished her a happy and prosperous New Year.

Only small steps had been taken on this evening. They knew that the road ahead would be long and bumpy; but at least it was a start.

This was the holiday for setting aside old grudges.


	9. Unforeseen Events

Summary: One-shot with four sections centered around four of the 30 Kisses themes.

Note for 1st part: _Gai_ is the Chinese word for calcium and _gai lan_ is the word for Chinese broccoli.

**

* * *

Unforeseen Events_ (Themes #'s 28, 18, 22 and 20)_ **

**_Part 1. Lost (theme #28, calcium)_**

Sheets of ice cold sleet came down around them and they trudged through the snow, eyes squinting against the frozen rain that fell on them like daggers. Their thick military style boots were designed to protect their feet from the harsh elements, but after being out for so many hours in this weather they both felt the cold and damp seeping in.

The visibility was negligible and their heads were bent as they moved forward, no hope of shelter from the storm in sight.

She could barely feel her fingers as she grasped Khan's reins, leading him along on foot. He shook his head violently, shaking off another layer of sleet that had settled on his mane. Chancing a worried glance at Shang she noted the blue hue of his lips, how tired he looked as he kept his jaw set, working to keep an outward façade of his usual strength and control. But she could see that he was slipping. As cold as she was, he was already affected by it much more than she was. His gait was unsteady and an image flashed into her mind of him stumbling and falling to the ground. As strong as she was from her workouts, she was unsure if she would be able to lift him up and carry him very far. Her stomach knotted up as the fleeting thought touched her mind. What would she do without him?

_Women can last longer in the cold than men. It's the way we're made._

It was one of those sayings she'd heard from her mother when she was growing up and it popped into her head now. Women could survive longer in the cold. Eating lots of _gai lan_ would prevent them from developing a hunched back as they aged. She didn't know what proof there was of these facts but her mother believed them adamantly. Mama also had a reservoir of sayings and superstitious tales that had been passed down from generation to generation. As a child she'd heard at least one every night as Fa Li tucked her in, kissing her lightly on the forehead. And with every tale came one of the many catch-all phrases and a lesson to heed.

Mulan held out a supportive hand toward Shang. His face appeared grayish and he looked exhausted. She feared he would fall over in any moment. But he grasped her hand firmly as they ventured on blindly, trying to find their way back to the mountain path that they'd inadvertently strayed from in the blinding weather. If they could find it again, maybe they could figure out where they were instead of continuing to wander around in a miasma of ice and snow until they froze to death.

How had they gotten themselves into such a predicament?

The weather had shifted so abruptly and they were stranded before they even knew what had hit them. And now it was very possible that they would die, all because of a vacation that they'd decided to spend hiking in the Black Horse Mountains.

Their bags were saddled on Khan and Shing, Shang's stallion, packed with their personal belongings and, more importantly, blankets and rations of food. Unfortunately the food would run out unless they could find their way back to civilization soon. Her mind settled on that thought now and then, causing her stomach to lurch, but she quickly pushed it away and concentrated on trying to get her bearings.

Everything looked the same. The shapes of the tree line on the horizon and the mountain peaks all seemed the same and she couldn't pick out any unique characteristic that would help her figure out where they were.

"There."

Shang released her hand and pointed. It was impossible for her to make out what he was pointing to and she wondered if maybe he was hallucinating, but she just nodded and followed his lead.

"I know where we are," she heard him mutter.

"You do?"

"This is not where we were intending to go. But I know this place. I've been here before."

**_

* * *

Part 2: Shelter (theme #18, say "ahh…") _**

They managed to build a small fire and now settled down to spend the night in this abandoned, sparsely outfitted wooden hut. Though they were now sheltered from the storm and somewhat from the cold, it was still quite chilly inside and they had both already become terribly frozen moving about in this storm for so many hours.

Shang sat by the fire shivering. Boots removed, Mulan padded across the decrepit wooden floor in bare feet.

"I wish I had some dry socks," she remarked through chattering teeth, rummaging through their packs and withdrawing their clothing and blankets. Unfortunately practically everything they owned was damp. She began to spread everything out on the floor near the fire.

"Hopefully they'll dry quickly."

She grasped one blanket.

"This one is pretty dry. We'll have to share it."

"We need to get out of these wet clothes," he muttered, peeling his shirt and pants off.

Mulan smiled slightly, relieved that he still seemed to have his wits about him. She took a seat on the floor beside him, beginning to wrap the blanket around his shoulders; he reached over and began to pull her clothing off as well.

"You won't warm up either if you're in wet clothes."

She lightly stroked his cheek. "You don't need to explain."

He draped an arm around her and enfolded them both in the single blanket.

"Ahh," she heard him sigh as she snuggled closer to him. She released a sigh of her own as the warmth from his body enveloped her.

"Are you alright, Shang? You were looking pretty blue out there."

"Yeah. You were, too."

She turned her face up to look at him and he leaned down, kissing her lips tenderly.

"Cold lips," she whispered.

"Mm-hmm. You'll have to help me warm them up."

_**

* * *

Part 3. The Mountain Hut (theme #22, cradle) **_

_Leaves rustled and a large shadow crept toward him. Muscles tensing, he crouched, ready to pounce, knife poised._

_This was tigers' territory, cradled among the slopes of the high mountains. He could always hear them prowling, stalking him, but he never saw them. His fires kept them at bay at night, and he always kept several branches on hand to use to hold them off should they attack. But he hadn't been able to build a fire yet tonight._

_Golden eyes gleamed in the dark and he stared into them, remaining still. His breath caught in his throat momentarily with his tension, but he released it quietly, letting it flow in and out evenly. He could feel that he was upwind. Perhaps the animal hadn't picked up his scent, though he was sure that he could see him._

_Shang could sense that the large cat was crouched in the brush, ready to spring. But he didn't pounce. Neither man nor beast moved, each eyeing the other warily in the dark. An eternity of silence passed and Shang could feel his heart pounding thunderously in his ears._

"Shang?"

He woke with a start, blinking up at Mulan in bewilderment. His head was cradled in her lap and she was stroking his hair. The other blankets had dried and two of them were now draped around her shoulders.

"You never finished your story."

"I didn't? Oh…I'm sorry. I fell asleep."

"It's okay. I know how tired you are."

It took him a moment to remember where they were. The hut in the mountains. This had all been part of his survival training and his lessons in the art of Kung Fu, observing the tiger's swiftness and sharp precision. He'd camped outside in the mountains every day, armed with nothing but a small dagger. As the days went by, he'd ventured further up through the pass, climbing higher. After two weeks he'd made it to the top, surprised to find the hut and the old hermit that lived in it.

Even more surprising was that the old hermit had been expecting him and knew his name.

"What have you learned of tigers, Li Shang?" was the first thing he asked as he set a cup of soup down before him and coaxed him to eat.

And Shang had told him what he'd learned from observing the tigers and the other animals that he found there. Their movements, their style of hunting, their way of being in the world. And he learned how to be like the tiger, maintaining the poise, grace and balance of the great cat. A silent, elegant and deadly hunter that could strike swiftly, with precise aim, killing in the blink of an eye when necessary.

Mulan listened as he recounted tales of his training there, fascinated.

"Did you ever come face to face with a tiger?" she asked as he finished his story.

"No," he answered. "But it's odd that I was just having a dream about it before I woke up."

"You are like a tiger, and not just when you're doing Kung Fu," she murmured softly, leaning over, her lips coming to rest on his.

"Behave yourself," he chided teasingly, his heart beginning to flutter at the quiet half-brushing of her lips against his.

He puckered his lips to kiss her more fully and she obliged. Then she lifted her head and gazed down at him adoringly.

"Are you hungry, Shang?"

"Mm-mm. No. But tomorrow if it lets up a little I should go out and try to hunt down a rabbit or two for us. We'll run out of rations eventually. I need to start supplementing our food supply, being as we're stuck here until the snow stops and we can find our way again."

He glanced at her worriedly. She'd been exposed to the cold for as long as he had been.

"Are you alright, Mulan? You were affected by the cold, too."

She shook her head.

"I'm fine. You're the one who had a blue face."

He shifted off of her lap and reached up to pull her down beside him.

"Come and warm me up more."

With a soft smile, she shifted and stretched out beside him, snuggling underneath the blanket with him and wrapping the other ones around both of them too.

"You look much better," she remarked, expertly running her hand underneath the layers of blankets and over his torso. "And your skin is warm again."

"I'm fine. Don't worry so much about me."

"You could have frozen to death, Shang."

He chuckled. "You could have also."

"I saw you stumbling out there. You were much worse than me."

Her arms entwined around him and he closed his eyes with a sigh as she pressed her body up against his once more.

_**

* * *

Part 4. Home (theme #20, the road home) **_

Shang sighed contentedly as they finished off the rest of the rabbit meat that Mulan had managed to stew over the fire along with the berries and nuts that she'd gathered. She looked up upon hearing his sigh and grinned.

"See? It was worth it, wasn't it?" she poked at him teasingly.

"I'm still annoyed that you didn't listen to me," he growled angrily, but he was biting back a belly laugh that simmered just underneath the surface. "You risked your life to go traipsing out there to find this stuff."

"And you risked your life going out and running down a rabbit in this."

"Always have to have the last word, don't you?"

She reached out and stroked his cheek gently.

"You know you don't have to be such a worry-wart with me, Shang. I can take care of myself as well as you."

He reached up and covered her hand with his own, pressing it against his cheek, closing his eyes and sighing. The snow was still coming down, though not as heavily, and they had settled down nicely in old master's hut, now their temporary home.

After they had rested and warmed themselves up, they'd gathered enough energy to take a look around the place, finding a few pots and pans in the abandoned cupboard, dusted with cobwebs but otherwise no worse for wear.

"We can live on spiders if we need to," Shang had remarked, half in jest, as he brushed at the coating on one of the pans.

"Eww," Mulan had groaned, making a face.

Amused by her response, he continued to tease her.

"Well, if we're desperate. Spiders and insects are meat, really."

With a look that told him she was not amused, she turned away and went to rummage through the rest of the hut.

They had eaten from their supply of rations for the first couple of days. As the snow fell more lightly and the visibility improved, Shang ventured out to catch a rabbit. Remembering the hut and his training with old master, he was familiar with the terrain and where to find food. He'd casually mentioned it to Mulan, suggesting that after he got them some meat he could go out and gather other sources of food. Instead, she'd gone to the places that he'd spoken about and gathered it herself. He'd returned to find the hut empty. And when she came back, he whirled on her in anger and relief.

"The horses needed to be fed, too," she'd told him. "The snow is covering everything that they can graze on."

They remained in the decrepit shelter together, sharing a good meal, warmed by the roaring fire in the hearth. When the snow let up, they would leave. He knew where he was now and could blindly lead them back to the main path, down the mountain and back to the road home. But he would wait until the snow finally ceased and it was safer. They had nearly frozen to death and he wasn't about to tempt fate twice for either of them.

And right now he was content, even in this humble place, with just the two of them. Mulan was by his side and they were living a simple life away from family complications, away from his responsibilities as an officer of the Emperor. It wasn't a bad life, really.

Shang opened his eyes and focused on her. She was gazing at him intently and he smiled, closing his hand around hers. He removed it from his cheek and lowered it back to the table, squeezing it gently.

"It was a delicious stew."

Mulan leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"Almost makes you want to stay here, doesn't it?" she murmured softly.

"Old master spent his life here," Shang sighed wistfully. "And he lived to a very old age. It is possible to survive up here."

"I suppose. But I'm sure we'd miss civilization eventually."

"Probably."

Pushing his bowl away, he stood up and took her hands, lifting her to her feet.

"Besides, I wouldn't want my family thinking that we disappeared after going on a simple hiking trip."

She draped her arms around his neck and he snaked his arms around her waist, locking them in an embrace.

"I guess we should have planned better."

"No," he answered, leaning down and kissing her lips softly. "It's early for a snow storm such as this, even in the mountains. We couldn't have known this would happen. But it's alright. Once the weather has cleared I'll be able to lead us back home."

"I'm just glad that you're alright," she whispered. "I was really worried about you."

He grinned and embraced her tightly.

"There was no need. You know that I can take care of myself as well as you can."


	10. Kiss

Title: Kiss  
Pairing: Li Shang/Fa Mulan  
Theme: #9, dash  
Warning: Extreme fluff alert.  
Note: I may reshuffle the chapters into some kind of order at the end. For now, this one can fit in anywhere after Mulan and Shang are married.  
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

* * *

The afternoon was quiet except for the scratching of her brush on the paper before her. She stopped for a moment to sweep away a stray lock of hair that had fallen over her forehead. Taking up the implement again she continued writing. 

Shang watched his wife as she worked. He loved the way she looked when she was concentrating; intense, intellectual, soft red lips pursed tightly as she wrote, wrapped up in the thoughts that she couldn't get down on paper fast enough.

She had a beautiful hand at calligraphy. And unlike most other girls in her village she'd been educated. Her father had spared no expense for his only daughter and she'd studied calligraphy with a fine master. She knew several styles and had taught him several minute nuances of the art that he had never known before.

Unable to help himself he stood and padded over to her quietly. She was attempting to draw the horizontal lines for the next character she intended to create but, suddenly sensing his presence, she jumped startled. Her elbow jerked and the brush skipped, ink smearing off course.

"Aw, I'm sorry," he murmured with a low chuckle as he glanced over her shoulder. "I made you mess up your dash."

Mulan set the brush down and turned to him with a frown, her lips drawn into a cute little pout. "I'll have to write the whole thing over now."

He lifted her hair and bent down, kissing her neck amorously to appease her.

"That won't get you off the hook so fast," she replied, her voice laced with just a hint of mirth underneath the annoyance. "I've been working on this all day."

"I just love the way you look when you're concentrating," he murmured between nibbles.

She turned her body all the way around to face him and he leaned in, intending to scoop her up into his arms and lift her off the chair. But she held up a hand.

"I have ink on my fingers," she remarked, showing him. Other than that, she made no effort to discourage him.

Shang began to laugh. "Were you doing calligraphy or finger painting?"

A mischievous glint flashed in her eyes and before he could react she'd dipped her fingers in the ink and had made prints on his bare chest.

"Aw, I'm sorry," she cooed devilishly. "I messed up your chest."

He pulled her to her feet, not caring that she had ink all over her hands now, and scooped her up into his arms to carry her off to the bed.

"You are going to get it now."

A short while later, as they lay on the bed together, heated bodies cooling, he rolled over onto a side to gaze at her.

"So, what word were you writing when I so cruelly made you mess up?"

"Kiss."


	11. Loss

Title: Loss  
Author: lightbird  
Fandom: Mulan  
Pairing: Li Shang/Fa Mulan  
Theme: #1, look over here  
Warnings: more serious, less fluff  
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

**

* * *

**

A chill permeated the night air and Mulan shivered, wrapping her blanket tighter around her. Without a word Shang stood up and went to retrieve an extra one from his pack. Returning to where she sat by the fire he draped it around her shoulders and took a seat again.

"Thank you," she murmured, grateful for the little bit of attention he bestowed on her now. At least he'd noticed she was cold.

His response was muttered and unintelligible as he went back to staring into the fire, looking lost in thought again.

The silence between them was deafening. Often she would glance at him, longing for him to look away from the fire and at her. He barely seemed to notice that she was there. The barrier that had been erected between them with the death of Mao became higher and more impenetrable with every passing day. She desperately wanted to talk to him, and she wanted even more for him to speak to her. But Shang wasn't the type to easily open up about deeply emotional things. Right now she would settle for him turning to look at her; despite the fact that they sat together in close proximity, his mind and soul were so far away from her she might as well have not been there at all.

She fumbled for words now, wanting to start a conversation but feeling stopped at every turn.

What had happened? Did he blame her? Fear and despair possessed her alternately all the time, seizing her heart like cold, grasping fingers, as she sensed him slipping further and further away from her. He barely touched her anymore and they rarely kissed. When they did, it was passionless. Quick pecks that even lacked affection, they were now routine, obligatory gestures of habit that meant nothing.

And now the two of them were going to be on a perilous journey to the northern border together, on a mission to escort the Emperor's eldest daughter to the place of her marriage. With the safety and peace of two kingdoms hanging in the balance, they would need to rely on one another and have each other's backs. But he had been so moody and distant every day, brooding during their entire journey to the capital so far, barely speaking a word other than to announce that it was time to move out each morning. A feeling of foreboding made her stomach churn.

Not that he was completely cruel and indifferent. He still seemed to care about her comfort, as demonstrated when he retrieved the extra blanket for her. He _had_ noticed that she was cold. But he just wasn't…_with her_ anymore.

An ache settled in her heart as she looked up once more, her heart thudding in her chest as she opened her mouth, trying to gather enough courage to speak. Odd how the man had been her husband for six years and yet she felt as distant from him now as when she was the awkward young girl, sitting with a man that she fawned over from a distance. Even that was easier.

Clutching the blankets, she absentmindedly pulled them tighter around her.

"Shang," she finally addressed him quietly.

He didn't hear her and she found that she was relieved; she didn't even know what she wanted to say, where to begin.

Abruptly she stood up.

"Goodnight, Shang. I'll relieve you in a few hours. Unless you want to have the first watch."

Shang started, blinking as if he'd just woken up from a dream, and turned, finally looking at her.

"Oh. Goodnight," he answered distractedly.

"Here. You'll probably need this," she murmured, holding out the extra blanket that he'd given her.

"I don't need it," he grounded out, his voice low and rough.

But she knew that the temperature would drop in the deep of night and he'd regret not having it. Ignoring his response, she draped the blanket around his shoulders and turned toward the tent.

"I said I didn't need it," he spat out under his breath, tossing the blanket off angrily.

Taken aback by his gesture, she halted momentarily. Then without a word, she ducked inside the canvas and silk shelter, leaving her shoes near the entrance.

She lay awake in the tent for hours, alone, listening to the sounds outside, sadness and trepidation weighing on her as she pondered Shang's moodiness of late, and their gradually deteriorating relationship.

For a long time she tossed and turned, her mood alternating from sadness and desolation to anger and indignation then back again. Mao had been her son, too; she had carried him in her womb for ninth months and had borne him! Did he not realize that she grieved as deeply as he did? That she was as angry as he was at the events that had befallen? They could have comforted one another maybe, assuaging at least a small amount of the pain with their love for each other; but instead he stubbornly remained closed up and stoic about it, emotionless almost. And now it was as if she had lost both people that she loved dearly instead of just one. Sometimes the anguish in her heart overpowered her.

She became still as she heard his feet shuffling in the dirt outside, probably kicking some onto the snuffed out fire to ensure that it was truly out. Had dawn come already? He sighed audibly and she was tempted to poke her head out and talk to him. Deciding that it wouldn't be a good idea, she instead turned over onto her stomach and buried her face in her arms.

Some more time passed and she slept fitfully for a short while. When she awoke again, unable to make herself relax back into slumber, she pulled her blanket around her and crept out of the tent.

He was sitting up, gazing at the horizon. Waiting for the sun to rise.

"I'll never know why you enjoy early mornings so much," she managed to mutter the remark. She was too tired to fret about what his reaction would be or to even care if she ticked him off anymore. "I'm here to relieve you on watch so you can get some sleep."

"What are you doing up?" he murmured as if she hadn't said a word, turning to look at her.

She stared at him. "It's my turn to keep watch."

"It's still early if you want to go back to bed. We don't have a long way to go today, so we can leave a little later. If you want to get a couple of extra hours of sleep you can. I know you don't like to be up early."

Apparently he had no plans to get any sleep himself.

Ignoring his words, she took a seat beside him.

"Aren't you going to sleep at all?"

He didn't answer; he appeared to have no intention of doing so. With nothing else to say, they sat together in silence and watched the horizon together, waiting for the dawn. She hated being up early; but watching the sun rise with him was something she could have done every morning. Sadness pressed heavily on her heart and her chest began to ache once more. As angry as he made her, she loved him deeply. And he was still so heartbreakingly handsome she wanted to cry as she took in his profile now.

Shang finally turned to her as the sun finished its ascent.

"You should probably get a little more sleep before we leave."

"Aren't you going to sleep at all, Shang?"

"A little later. I already told you," he added, a slight growl in his voice.

"No, you never answered me."

He sighed in exasperation.

"I'll probably be reassigned to border patrol after we finish this mission," he changed the subject brusquely.

"The northern border?"

"Yes."

"What about me?"

"You'll be going home."

Mulan swallowed hard, trying to force the lump in her throat away.

"Oh."

She stood up abruptly and walked away, leaving him there at the top of the hill and disappearing into the forest.

Home was nowhere near the northern border. The Emperor had apparently made it quite easy for Shang to separate himself from her. If it was even the Emperor's idea.

It was quite possible that Shang had requested the reassignment.

**xxxxxxx**

"Mulan."

After all of his observation of the tigers that lived in the mountains where he'd trained in martial arts, there was no doubt that Shang had learned to emulate them impeccably; he moved with the stealth of a great hunting cat. Now he had approached her so quietly she hadn't heard him. Or maybe she was just too wrapped up in her turbulent emotions and thoughts to notice whatever noise he had made.

She jumped at the sound of his voice and quickly wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Lowering her arm once more she stared into the stream as he came to sit beside her, too angry and upset to look at him.

"Are you alright?"

The question rendered her speechless. He was the one acting weird and he was asking _her_ if she was alright? She didn't even know how to begin to answer him and she kept her eyes trained on the flowing water in front of her.

"I…I didn't mean to snap at you, Mulan."

"It's my fault. You told me you didn't want the blanket," she answered sullenly, her mind for some reason dwelling on the image of him throwing the blanket off in annoyance the previous night.

_Everything is my fault. I'm driving him away._

She cringed at the foolish, self-pitying and self-incriminating thought. This wasn't like her. Why was she blaming herself? Was it because he blamed her? He was hurting her so. Yet as angry with him as she was, she felt as if she couldn't allow herself that feeling. Her ire would pass after a few moments and she would turn her thoughts inward, tearing herself apart and wondering what she could do differently so she would please and not irritate him. What was wrong with her?

"What?" he murmured, sounding utterly confused.

The smooth, steady movement of the stream and the gentle trickling sound it made soothed her a little and she concentrated on it, not answering him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," she muttered, annoyed.

He was silent and she could feel his intense gaze on the side of her face. She shifted and angled herself away from him.

"If you have to be on border patrol…will you be coming home first?"

"It's not definite yet. I will have to return to Chang'an for orders."

"Oh."

"Mulan." A hint of pain and hurt came through in his voice; he almost sounded pleading. "Mulan, look at me."

But she didn't want to cry. And if she turned to look at him in that moment, she would have.


	12. Understanding

Title: Understanding  
Author: lightbird  
Fandom: Mulan  
Pairing: Li Shang/Fa Mulan  
Theme: #13, excessive chain  
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

* * *

She'd been crying before he approached her at the stream; he'd noticed immediately, the stain of her tears still visible on her face even though she'd wiped them away. He longed to comfort her, knowing somehow that although she hadn't spoken of it, he was to blame for her tears.

Shang sighed and closed his eyes. He'd been short with her; he didn't mean it. She wouldn't even look at him now. The trickle of the water was the only sound penetrating the silence in the air.

"Mulan, we should go," he finally managed to get out quietly.

"I'll be right there," she answered sullenly, refusing to turn his way.

He reached out tentatively, wanting to touch her shoulder, to get her to look at him; to somehow clear the insurmountable hurdle between them. There was a time when he could gather her in his arms and soothe her with tender kisses when she was feeling sad; a time when she could lift the sting of a bad day with her caress, her sweet, loving smile and the soft yet strong touch of her hands on his shoulders. Everything had changed in the blink of an eye, before he even knew it had happened. And now he didn't know how to go back to what they were before.

Feeling stymied, he drew his hand back without making contact and stood up, turning back toward their campsite.

The tent needed to be broken down and he set to it. Sighing, he glanced around at the camp. He would be packing by himself, he was sure. Good thing there wasn't much to do. With another sigh, he picked up one side of the material to begin rolling it up.

Mulan had always been an open, exuberant young woman; but she was so moody and unhappy lately. Almost a complete stranger. He still couldn't figure out what was happening between them no matter how much he pondered it. It was true that he'd been preoccupied as well. But every time he tried to reach out to her she seemed so sad and distant.

His mood was rotten these days, he realized. It wasn't that he no longer loved Mulan; he did, deeply. But she irked and frustrated him, fussing over him the way she did all the time now, as if she doubted him. Did she believe that he couldn't take care of himself anymore? That he couldn't take care of her?

_Perhaps she blames me for not protecting Mao as I should have._

Pain stabbed at his heart and he took a deep breath, attempting to relax his constricting throat. Anger began to burn in his chest and he kicked at the wooden stakes that pinned the tent into the ground.

She spent so much time in the room where Mao used to sleep. He walked by and found her sitting in that room so often. What was wrong with her? Did she think sitting in there would bring him back? Why couldn't she just leave the door shut to the room, let it be? But Mulan couldn't let anything alone.

Always too late he realized how abrupt his answers had come out and he could no longer take them back. She would recoil so visibly with such a deeply wounded expression that it stopped him from speaking further as he became wracked with guilt for snapping at her. And then they'd sit in deafening silence, two unhappy people who became more distant from each other with every unintentionally hurtful word or gesture, every misinterpretation, an endless chain of failures to understand one another. This time was no different.

Now they were on their way to Chang'an to pick up the Emperor's daughter and escort her over the northern border. He couldn't believe that the man was entrusting his eldest daughter into the care of just the two of them. Surely he would want more protection for her! Nevertheless, this was the Emperor's wish, as inexplicable as it seemed.

He took another deep breath, but the weight on his chest just grew more constricting and he acutely felt the stress that lay heavily on him now. He would be responsible for a princess, the safety and peace of two kingdoms, and his own wife.

Why was it that the Emperor had to insist on Mulan being on this mission? He wished that she would have remained at home. Wasn't it enough that he'd already lost a son because of the fighting between the two nations? If he lost his wife as well, he would have nothing left. He'd failed once at protecting his own; he refused to let it happen again.

Shang swallowed hard and blinked back the tears that began to burn his eyes as these thoughts flooded his mind. He roughly grabbed the poles and the tightly rolled up tent, turning toward the horses and furiously pushing away his somber musings with an effort. He'd lost too many people in his life; but he couldn't think about that now. When the mission was over he would escort Mulan home, making sure that she stayed alive and well.

She appeared in that moment, emerging from the forest and joining him where he had stopped in his tracks, still holding the bundle in his arms. His stomach clenched as he immediately became aware of the tight tension between them. A torrent of emotions flooded him and his heart ached as he glimpsed her beautiful face, profound melancholy casting a shadow over it.

He wanted to speak to her, to say anything that might shatter the discomfort and hard feelings between them, but words failed him.

Soundlessly she approached him and reached out to relieve him of some of his burden.

"I've got it," he muttered gruffly.

Mulan nodded, taking a step back, and he suppressed a sigh as the familiar expression of hurt pasted itself across her features. He'd said the wrong thing again, in the wrong tone, and she felt rebuffed by him once more.

* * *

A/N: Next part halfway written. To be posted shortly. 


	13. Beginnings

Title: Beginnings  
Author: lightbird  
Fandom: Mulan  
Pairing: Li Shang/Fa Mulan  
Theme: #15, perfect blue  
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

* * *

Shang watched as the lithe form of his wife glided across the palace garden, back toward him. She was just a shadow in the night right now, not even reached by the kiss of moonlight that peaked through the clouds, but he knew her figure too well not to recognize her. 

They'd finally reached the palace late in the evening, after riding through a torrential downpour; monsoon season had come upon them somewhat early this year. The Emperor had his servants show them to their rooms where they would stay until the morning. Although the rain had let up this was not a time to be traveling with his daughter. It was dark, the stone streets were wet and slippery, the forest paths and dirt roads slick with thick mud. And the storm could start up again at any moment.

Hot water and bath oils had been brought, clean towels and robes left in their rooms, and after enjoying the luxury of bathing inside, rather than in cold streams, they both dressed and Shang escorted his wife to the banquet hall where they had been invited to dine with the Emperor himself along with several other guests there.

She wore a dress for the occasion and her make-up had been done by one of the women servants. Too preoccupied with other things, he hardly noticed how she looked, merely noting absently the sweep of the blue silk of her dress out of the corner of his eye as he led her to the dining room.

A fabulous spread had been prepared for dinner and they were served the best wine from the palace stores. Uneasy about the journey ahead of them and all the implications of it, Shang found it hard to muster an appetite, but he forced himself to eat. It would be an insult to any host were he to decline any of the several courses served; and offending this host would be inviting death.

_Then again, if this mission goes wrong, that may happen anyway,_ he mused darkly.

He had misgivings about it, still unable to understand why the Emperor would entrust the safety of his daughter to just two people. The man offered no reason for his decision and Shang knew better than to ask.

Whatever happened, he was resolved to make sure Mulan was safe. If anything went wrong with the mission, if something happened to the princess, he would escort her into hiding and turn himself in. Life in the mountains wasn't easy; but there were retreats and huts there, and monks that gave shelter to strangers. She would have to spend the rest of her life there disguised as a man. But she would be safe and alive.

His somber thoughts were interrupted by the laughter of the Emperor and some of his other guests, who looked him over mirthfully and insisted that more wine be poured for him so his sour spirits would be lifted.

After dinner, as the storm lifted, the gathering of people moved out into the garden to get some air. Moody and perturbed, Shang had stayed behind. Mulan had glanced at him questioningly for just a moment. Then the melancholy expression that clouded her face so often these days returned; and she turned without a word and left him standing on the patio outside the doors that led to the main hall.

He had sighed heavily and remained there, arms folded, his face creased into a deep frown as he watched her stroll toward the end of the garden, disappearing in the shadows of the trees. They were strangers, slipping away from each other little by little. And between the thick, uncomfortable silences that plagued them and trying to keep the princess safe by themselves it was going to be a very trying journey.

The image of the blue silk of her dress moving and swaying as she walked, accentuating her willowy figure, stayed with him. She'd been wearing the same color the first time he'd ever seen her in a dress; it wasn't the first time he'd ever laid eyes on her as a woman, but it was the first time he'd seen her dressed like one. A perfect shade of blue for her.

She was still wearing it when he arrived at her home after leaving the Imperial City, needing to see her again but using the excuse of returning her father's helmet so she wouldn't guess his true intentions. He hadn't fooled anyone. And as they walked together in her family's garden after dinner he'd blurted out how beautiful she looked in that dress. And felt like a fool, thinking that she could never fall for him after the way he had treated her.

That is until he went to her home again a few weeks later with a message from the Emperor, only too glad to deliver it. He was invited in for dinner once more; and Mulan excused herself, explaining that she had to change out of her 'work clothes'. She emerged wearing the same pretty blue dress.

Every time he was with her after that, and as long as she didn't have to be in uniform, she wore that dress for him. And he knew then that she loved him too.

She emerged from the darkness, approaching the patio where he still stood and stepping into the bright lantern light, and he drank in the sight of her in that perfect shade of blue that brought out her lovely features, remembering. An almost imperceptible glimmer of surprise and hope slipped into her eyes as she gazed at him.

"Shang?" she whispered. An unspoken question seemed to linger in her voice, hanging in the air between them and she suddenly frowned slightly. She thought something might be wrong.

"Mulan," he heard himself murmur tenderly. "I've always loved the way you look in that shade of blue."


	14. A Different Place

Title: A Step Backward  
Author: lightbird  
Fandom: Mulan  
Pairing: Li Shang/Fa Mulan  
Theme: #25, fence  
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

**xxxxxxx**

He'd opened up for just a little while.

All the tenderness and love was there in his gaze as he stood on that patio and watched her approach him. All the passion and affection had returned, all there in his tight embrace. And he'd kissed her in a way that he hadn't in a long time. Since before they'd lost Mao.

And things had seemed right again for just a little while. Until they went back inside and encountered an old acquaintance of Shang's father. The wrong subject came up much too quickly as they chatted casually.

"I'm sorry to have heard about your loss, General Li." The man laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "If there's anything I can do…"

"Thank you," Shang had answered gruffly, doing his best to extract himself from the conversation as quickly as possible.

As they left the man behind and walked toward their bedchamber Mulan slipped her hand into Shang's, hoping to comfort him even as her own grief was stirred up again. He didn't respond, his hand remaining limp, dead weight.

The barrier had dropped down between them again like a curtain.

* * *

Title: Witnesses  
Author: lightbird  
Fandom: Mulan  
Pairing: Li Shang/Fa Mulan  
Theme: #21, violence; pillage/plunder; extortion  
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney. 

**xxxxxxx**

Husband and wife lay awake, unable to sleep with the noise of the shouting and crying in the room above them that carried through the ceiling.

"Don't shut me out again!" the young woman's voice rang out so loud and clear that they could hear each and every word.

"Ai, such a shame," the wife sighed sadly. "We just saw them kissing in the garden earlier this evening."

"It was bound to happen. That young man looked so grim at dinner, even with the honor of sitting at the table with the Emperor."

"We are very lucky to have raised two healthy children who grew up and are on the verge of adulthood. That poor young couple was not as fortunate."

"You speak as if you know all about them," the husband chuckled. "We're not even from this province. How could you have found out so much about a couple from Chang'an in just two days?"

"Well, they're famous. She's Fa Mulan, the woman warrior who joined the army in her father's place and helped save China. And he's General Li Shang. They had a little son but he was killed a few months ago during an attack by the Tujue."

That drew a sympathetic murmur from the husband.

"No wonder that young man looks so somber."

They lay together quietly, listening to the muffled words and cries as the young couple argued violently above them.

"So sad," she murmured. "They were a lovely looking couple. It's tragic that such a thing happened, and now it tears them apart so."

"And yet there was still so much passion in their kiss."

"I…"

The thud that sounded too uncannily like a body hitting the floor cut off her sentence and made them both gasp. Suddenly it was quiet upstairs.

The wife sat up, alarmed.

"What should we do?" she whispered frantically. "What if he's killed her?"

The husband shook his head vehemently. "He may have only hit her. Or maybe someone tripped. We don't know what happened."

"Maybe we should have the guards check…"

"It's not our affair. In the morning the servants will tend to them. If anything is amiss, they'll report it. Try to go to sleep."

Sleep didn't come to either of them.

* * *

Title: Blame  
Author: lightbird  
Fandom: Mulan  
Pairing: Li Shang/Fa Mulan  
Theme: #16, invincible, unrivaled  
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney. 

**xxxxxxx**

Only a short time before they'd kissed in the garden, the spark of passion between them ignited again, their love as intense and ardent as ever. How had things shifted so quickly between them?

He collapsed to his knees beside her, barely noticing the hot tears that fell from his eyes, and reached out to help her. She clutched her ankle, wincing.

"Mulan, I'm sorry," he cried. "Are you alright?"

Bitter remorse and guilt flooded him. The wound had been opened up, fresh again after his encounter with his father's old friend. Grief and bitterness became so churned up inside of him that he'd wanted to scream. When she pressed him to talk, attempting to draw him out, he'd exploded and let loose a torrent of cruel words. His own shouts of how she spent so much time in Mao's room, how she wouldn't leave well enough alone, his accusations that she didn't trust him, all rang in his ears still with perfect clarity.

Some of it he could hardly remember; it was just a blur of angry, hostile epithets. She tried to take his arm and explain herself, but he was too caught up in his rage and he pushed her away too roughly. Shoved off balance from the force he used, she stumbled and went crashing to the floor, twisting her ankle in the process due to the awkward position of her body as she fell. It had cut off their argument like a blade and snapped him out of his fury.

"You may get your wish," she groaned. "If it's a sprain I might not be able to go on the mission."

She'd managed to throw his words right back in his face.

"I'm going to lift you up and carry you to the bed. Then I'll see what I can do for your ankle."

It was a statement, but he waited for a sign that it was alright. When she didn't argue he scooped her up, taking care not to jostle her ankle and cause her more pain. He carried her into the bedchamber and set her down on the bed gently, then inspected her ankle. She sat and watched him, half-reclining against a thick pile of pillows.

"Well, it's not swollen yet," he murmured, the guilt soaking into his heart like rain. "Are you in a lot of pain?"

"It's subsiding a little. Maybe I just twisted it but didn't sprain it."

"Keep it raised," he instructed, grabbing one of the throw pillows and slipping it under her foot.

"Thanks," she murmured, eyeing him steadily as he sat down on the edge of the bed beside her.

The torrential storm had passed. Now they could speak calmly, both of them too drained from the battle to fight so violently.

He lowered his head, feeling utterly ashamed of what he'd done, though it hadn't been intentional. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt you."

She sighed. "It's okay. I know it was an accident. You've been pushing me away for awhile now anyway. And you've made it obvious that you don't want me on the mission."

Bitterness dripped from her voice as she spoke.

"It's not what you think, Mulan."

Shang took a deep breath, trying to find the right words, to express himself without hurting her once more. The barrier between them had lifted a little again; they'd both been shocked into a clearer state of mind and he didn't want to lose the contact with her.

"We shouldn't even be on a mission. It's only been a few months…but it's not like we can refuse the Emperor's order. And it's just the two of us, expected to escort the princess by ourselves. I don't know why the Emperor isn't dispatching more guards to do this. It seems dangerous and makes absolutely no sense to me. I'm worried about protecting both of you. I wish that at least _you_ were home safe. I don't…" He stopped to swallow hard and force back the lump that began to form in his throat again.

"_You're_ not invincible either, you know. First of all, we'll both be protecting the princess together. Second of all, we'll be looking out for each other. Why are you treating me like I'm helpless, Shang?"

"I don't think you're helpless," he replied indignantly. "I want to protect you. Do you think that I can't?"

She stared at him in shock. "Of course not! Why would you say something so stupid?"

He shook his head. She rested her hand on his gently and gazed at him, a meaningful expression in her eyes.

"I should have taken better care of both of you," he lamented with a deep sigh. "You and Mao. I know you blame me, Mulan…if I had been a good father and protector, he would still be alive…"

"You think I blame _you_?" She looked utterly stunned. "And I thought you blamed me."

"What?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"You're so faraway all the time. When we're together, even right next to each other, it's like you're not with me at all. And you won't talk to me and tell me what's going on."

The frustration and sadness was clearly laced through her words. He stared at her as she began to laugh suddenly, almost covering a choked back sob but not quite succeeding.

"I am as much to blame for Mao's death as you." Her voice dropped to a near whisper, tight and full of pain as she tried to speak through her sobs. "I'm a warrior. It was my responsibility to protect him, too. I don't know. Maybe neither of us is to blame. But…you're taking it all out on me…"

He felt miserable as he gazed at her and listened to her pour out her heart. He'd really hurt her.

Mulan turned a tear-stained face to him and he leaned in, reaching up and beginning to stroke her cheek, ignoring his own tears that were falling.

"Mao was too young…he never even had a chance to…and I don't want to lose you too…" He trailed off, too overcome with emotion to continue speaking.

"And do you think I can bear to lose you? But I feel like I already have," she cried. "I love you so, Shang. When you shut me out the way you have been it breaks my heart."

Shang bent down and pressed his forehead against hers, bringing his arms around her shoulders.

"I've been too selfish maybe," she sobbed.

"No," he murmured. "If anyone has been selfish, it's been me. I've been so wrapped up in my own…my own troubles…I didn't even pay attention to you. And when I did I got annoyed because I saw you sitting in his room. I wish we could get rid of it. Or at least his things. I wouldn't forget him…but at least I wouldn't be reminded…always…"

She brought her fingers up and began to run them through his hair soothingly.

"Shang, the reason I sit in his room is because his spirit fills it. I feel closer to him when I'm in there. How could I ever let him go? How could you?"

Coaxing him to lay his head down on her shoulder, she embraced him, holding him as he finally lost control and completely broke down.


	15. Love

Only four more to go!

Title: Love  
Author: lightbird  
Fandom: Mulan  
Pairing: Li Shang/Fa Mulan  
Theme: #30, kiss  
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

**

* * *

**She ran her fingers through his thick, sleek black hair as he slept nestled in her arms, his head cradled against her chest. In all the time she'd known him she'd never seen him cry the way he did tonight, not even when his father died. 

Listening to the sound of his slow, even breaths in the silence, she reflected on the nuances of Shang that she had discovered over the long period of time that they had loved one another. He was not one to show his emotions so easily; but when he did she realized just how passionate and deep his feelings were.

When she first met him she saw a handsome but very serious, stoic young captain who'd had responsibility thrust upon him before he was completely ready. And he'd handled himself beautifully; at least she thought so. Gradually, as they spent more time together, he revealed his less serious, more playful and romantic side, much to her delight. Overall they had a good marriage, despite a few bumps along the way. He was an attentive and loving husband, and for the short time they were blessed with a son he had been a wonderful father.

After Mao died, he became serious and heavy. Shang was never what she would think of as a light personality. But after they lost their son he became weighted, for lack of a better way to explain it. It wasn't just that he was the old serious Shang who didn't smile a lot. His footsteps, his posture, everything about him seemed heavy.

She supposed that she'd become heavy too.

Things would never be the same for them again, not after they had lost a child. But they were in a different place now, a more open place. That sweet kiss in the garden had released something inside both of them, somehow opening them up. It had given her the impetus she needed to finally confront her husband and demand that he not shut her out.

And Shang opened up to her finally. He had been avoiding her, avoiding the severe grief and feeling of loss. It had always been his way. But tonight he'd finally started to let himself feel it; she was glad of that, though it took a violent fight that nearly ended in her injury that brought it about. He allowed her alone to really _see_ him. She knew in her heart that their love was as strong as ever, maybe even stronger. It had all been there in that kiss in the garden.

Shang stirred and his eyes fluttered open. She continued to stroke his hair as she smiled down at him. He shifted and looked up into her face.

"Mulan," he murmured. "What are you doing up still?"

"Watching you sleep."

A pained expression settled on his features and he closed his eyes again. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, Mulan."

"I know. It's okay."

"How can you even stand to look at me?"

"We were both upset. I know it was an accident, Shang. Nothing bad happened…"

"Your ankle."

"It's not hurting. I think I'm alright."

"Have you tried to stand up yet?"

"Not yet."

With a soft grunt from the effort of rousing himself, he sat up and shifted to the edge of the bed, standing up. "Try it now. You can hang onto me just in case you can't put weight on your foot."

She stood up and leaned on him, slowly allowing her weight to settle onto her feet. "So far so good."

"It doesn't look swollen."

They began to walk around the room slowly.

"Well, it seems to be alright."

"Good," he murmured.

"It means I'll be going on the mission." She eyed him carefully.

He sighed. "Mulan, it's not that I don't want you with me. I just don't want to lose you, too. I'd rather you were at home, safe. But I guess you're right. We'll look out for each other."

Mulan kissed his bare shoulder affectionately. Shang stopped and turned to her, taking her into his arms. She snaked her arms around his waist and gazed up into his eyes. They reflected the same love that she felt. Neither of them spoke.

Effortlessly he leaned down and covered her mouth with tender kisses that warmed her and made her tingle all over. She wrapped her arms around him as they deepened the last kiss and pressed her body up against him, only vaguely aware when he scooped her up off of her feet and carried her back to the bed.


	16. Home

Title: Decoy  
Author: lightbird  
Fandom: Mulan  
Pairing: Li Shang/Fa Mulan  
Theme: #19, red  
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

**xxxxxxx**

They rode behind a large, ornate carriage, flanked on all sides by soldiers astride their horses, who were charged with protecting the young woman inside. Every once in awhile, as if on cue, she pulled the red curtain aside to peer out the window; but for the most part she remained unseen.

In the evening the three of them watched from the shade of a large willow tree as the Imperial guard defeated the remaining bandits from the horde who, certain that a royal personage traveled in the luxurious sedan, had attacked the entourage.

As they observed the scene, Mulan uttered a silent prayer that the girl in the carriage would be alright.

"She is my servant," the princess had told them.

What she was doing, or was being forced to do, would draw attention away from the real princess, but at a great risk to herself.

_A red herring_, she thought and suppressed a sigh.

Then again, the princess didn't have it easy either. Trading the comfort of the plush sedan for her safety, she rode atop Shang's horse. Mulan was sure that she wasn't used to being on horseback, nor was she accustomed to sleeping out of doors. It would be a long, hard journey to the northern border for all of them.

The guards returned to their formation and they took that as their signal to move out again, taking up their position behind the large party. It was necessary to travel further, away from the place where they had been attacked, before settling in for the night. The royal entourage went to an inn for shelter. Mulan and Shang inconspicuously made camp and tried to make the Emperor's daughter as comfortable as possible in their circumstances.

"I hope this works," she remarked softly as they sat before the fire, her hand clasped in Shang's.

He nodded agreement. "I know. We're so vulnerable, even with this elaborate decoy."

That decoy was still somebody's daughter. Mulan couldn't help but think of everyone that way now, as some mother's child. And then her mind immediately went to the loss that those mothers would feel if something happened to those children.

"Are you alright?" he asked suddenly.

"Yes." Her voice was low and gruff as she answered. "I hope that girl will be alright."

"The servant?"

Mulan nodded.

Shang squeezed her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing it tenderly. "What's wrong, Mulan?"

"Nothing. It's just…" she hesitated.

"Come on," he coaxed gently. "We promised that we wouldn't keep anything from each other."

She inched closer to him and leaned her head against his shoulder, softly exhaling contentedly as he let go of her hand and slipped his arm around her shoulders, squeezing them affectionately.

"It's just that she's someone's child," she whispered, feeling the sadness in her heart lift a little as she spoke the words to him.

He began to stroke her gently. They sat together in comfortable silence and watched the crackling flames, each following their own train of thought.

"She's surrounded by Imperial guards, at least," she mused.

"Yes," he agreed, tenderly running a hand through her hair. "I know it's hard not to think about the other girl. But remember, we can't worry about everyone. Our job is to protect the child that's been placed in our care. _She's_ our responsibility."

* * *

Title: The Journey Home  
Author: lightbird  
Fandom: Mulan  
Pairing: Li Shang/Fa Mulan  
Theme: #10, #10  
Note: Much more light-hearted than the previous kisses  
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney. 

**xxxxxxx**

He glanced at her every once in awhile as they rode through sweeping grasslands of green and gold, worried at how quiet she was. Ever since their mission had been completed he'd felt ten times lighter, relieved of the heavy burden that had loomed so ominously before them. But rather than seeing relief in her expression, his wife appeared troubled.

"What?" she asked upon the last time he looked her way, her brow creased in slight annoyance.

"You're so quiet."

Mulan remained silent, appearing to be deep in thought. She finally spoke, surprising him with the question on her mind.

"Will you be going on border patrol now, then?"

"Border patrol?"

"Yes. Remember? You said that there was a good chance that you would be switched to border patrol."

"Oh, yes…" he trailed off and cleared his throat awkwardly, attempting to figure out how to best explain that.

They were both so unhappy when he'd told her that lie. He'd been blaming himself for everything, including her unhappiness, and he'd thought that leaving her would be the best thing for both of them. At least he wouldn't be causing her pain anymore that way. And with the story of an order from the Emperor he wouldn't be hurting her feelings, making her think that he was leaving because he didn't love her anymore.

He'd been worried about the mission as well, terrified that he would lose her too and doing everything in his power to distance himself so he wouldn't feel. But their journey had gone smoothly for the most part. They'd escorted both the princess and her handmaid safely to their new home in the royal city of the rival kingdom and they were now on their way home with the rest of the Imperial guards that had accompanied them. The things that he feared never came to fruition.

And now Mulan and he had found each other again. Things would never be the same as before, but that was okay. He knew that they loved each other more than anything. Life continued on, despite pain and loss; and their lives would go on, together.

"So?" she prodded him. "Was that definite?"

He could have slipped out of this predicament very easily by telling her that it wasn't definite. But just recently he'd chided her that they'd promised they wouldn't keep anything from each other. No, he had to be honest. If she somehow heard the truth from some place else, he'd really be in for it.

"Mulan, I…I was wrong. I'm sorry."

Her eyebrow quirked up and she gazed at him, confusion clouding her visage. He slowed his horse and she followed suit, sidling up close so that Khan was almost touching his stallion. She looked at him expectantly.

Shang took a deep breath and explained to her that at the time he'd thought it best for them if he went away. When he'd finished he remained quiet, allowing her to let it sink in and watching warily for her reaction.

Mulan looked utterly stunned. "So, you made that whole thing up? You were never ordered to go on border patrol?"

"No," he whispered.

"You were going to leave me."

"I never stopped loving you, Mulan. I just thought I was making you unhappy."

"Then you were taking the easy way out."

He hung his head, feeling utterly ashamed, like when he'd been a child getting spanked.

"Yes. I…was a coward."

Nothing could have surprised him more than when she leaned up and kissed him tenderly. As she pulled back, his lips curved into a half-smile and he felt his spirits brighten.

"Then I'm forgiven?"

Without warning she smacked the side of his head.

"Ah," he exclaimed, rubbing it. She hadn't really hurt him, but her action had startled him.

"Now you are."

She tugged on Khan's reins and he began to move off again. Shang spurred his own horse on and rode up beside her.

"We'll have to report to Chang'an with the others," he told her matter-of-factly.

Mulan nodded. "I know it."

She turned and grinned at him.

"How's your head?"

"Fine," he grumbled.

But he smiled a moment later. He knew that he was forgiven.

**oooOooo **

After the long work out with his men he returned home and bathed before going in to see his wife. They'd been married for several years, but he still loathed the idea of appearing to her sweaty and smelly from a training session. One time she'd caught him before he bathed and called him silly, informing him that she didn't care what he smelled like. She wanted him all the same.

"You'll be getting sweated up and dirty again anyway," she'd added in her most alluring, husky voice.

Today, however, he needed the hot bath, to relax him. For the first time since they'd returned from escorting the Emperor's daughter to her wedding he'd been concerned about Mulan. She'd been quite ill for several days and that morning she'd looked positively green. He'd urged her to see the doctor. An odd feeling of premonition had plagued him all day, and so strong was it that he'd actually gone to have his fortune told, something he'd rarely done in his life.

"This is an auspicious day, General. After all, it is the tenth day of the tenth month," the old fortune teller told him as he pored over the cards that Shang drew from the deck. "Ah, very interesting."

"What?"

"There will be changes. And a surprise at home."

Offering nothing more specific, even when pressed, the old man took his payment and called out to the next customer. Shang moved off, feeling more confounded than before he'd seen the fortune teller.

"Idiot," he muttered as he lowered himself into the hot water now. "What was I thinking, going to a fortune teller? It's all crap."

Emerging from the bath about ten minutes later, he toweled himself dry and dressed in a plain tunic and trousers, then went to see Mulan.

The house was quiet except for the soft scratching of a brush on parchment that reached his ears as he neared the study. He stopped at the threshold and watched his wife as she etched characters on the paper. She was so engrossed in her work she hadn't noticed that he was there yet.

Shang remained in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and watched her, a gentle smile playing around his lips as he took in every detail of her posture, of the intensity in her facial expression as she concentrated.

He released a soft sigh as she set the brush aside. She looked up with a start.

"I didn't even hear you come in."

She stood up and met him halfway as he crossed the room toward her. He embraced her and leaned down to kiss her, but she was grinning and his lips ended up hitting her teeth. Puzzled he pulled back and gazed at her; she looked almost radiant.

"Mulan…?" He trailed off, thinking of the fortune teller's words again.

"I have good news. Well, I hope you'll think that it's good news."

"What is it?"

"I'm going to have another baby."

* * *

Title: Night  
Author: lightbird  
Fandom: Mulan  
Pairing: Li Shang/Fa Mulan  
Theme: #24, good night  
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney. 

**xxxxxxx**

Her eyes were wide open as she lay in bed, her stomach clenching nervously.

Shang didn't seem particularly happy when she broke the news to him. Not that he looked upset or anything, but she'd been hoping for a warmer reaction upon hearing that they were expecting a new baby. He merely looked stunned.

Perhaps it was too soon.

Mulan rolled onto her side to face Shang and found that he was awake. She was barely able to see in the dark, but she could make out that his eyes were open and he was lying on his side watching her. They lay quietly for several minutes, staring at one another, neither of them speaking.

He broke the silence first.

"Can't sleep either?" he asked gently.

"No. I'm having trouble getting comfortable. You?"

"Mm. Too much on my mind."

Shifting once more, she rolled onto her back again. A large hand settled onto her stomach a moment later. He began to stroke her tenderly.

"You're not unhappy then?" she murmured tentatively as he caressed the skin that covered her womb.

"What?"

"About the baby…"

"Of course not."

Sighing with relief she closed her eyes. "Good. I…I know it hasn't been very long."

She was worried that they weren't ready.

Silence stretched between them again for a long time before he finally spoke up. "I _am_ worried, a little. I hope that…I will be a good father to our new baby."

"You're a wonderful father, Shang. You'll be great."

Mulan sensed that it wasn't exactly what he meant. He was worried that something would happen to their new baby, as was she, and that once again he wouldn't be able to prevent it. They were living in tumultuous times and there was no telling when another outbreak of violence and war would occur. But with the marriage of the princess had come a time of peace and renewal that, with any luck, would last. Mulan felt optimistic and hopeful about the things to come.

"I'm scared too."

The sheets rustled softly as he shifted, inching closer to her. She turned on her side to face him, feeling the closeness of his face to hers. A moment later he leaned in and kissed her lips tenderly.

"Tomorrow I'll start to make up the new room for the baby," he said quietly.

"Okay."

They lay together in comfortable silence and she closed her eyes as he caressed her shoulder absentmindedly. Eventually his strokes became uneven and slow, signaling that he was beginning to drift off.

"Good night, Shang," she whispered, reaching over and running her fingers through his hair. She let them drift down to his face and cupped her hand around his cheek.

In the stillness she heard his breathing change and felt the muscles in his cheek twitch under her hand as a drowsy smile spread across his face.

"M'night, Mulan."


	17. Morning

Title: Morning  
Author: lightbird  
Fandom: Mulan  
Pairing: Li Shang/Fa Mulan  
Theme: #17, kHz  
Disclaimer: All characters, etc. from the Disney movie belong to Disney.

* * *

Shang's eyes popped open, almost before the sound started, as if he knew it was coming again. Once more he found himself wondering at the unique pitch of the infant's cry, no different than their first son's. Feng's high-pitched wail pierced the night with its timbre and urgency. It was absolutely impossible to ignore. 

Beside him, Mulan groaned as she wearily sat up.

"Stay here," he told her, placing a firm hand on her arm and sitting up. "You've already been up four times. I'll go this time."

She slumped back down on the bed. "Thanks. Though if he needs to be fed I'll have to get up anyway," she sighed.

"Didn't you just feed him last time you were up?"

"I think he's hitting another growth spurt. He seems unable to stop eating today."

"I'll bring him in here then, so you won't have to come all the way down the hall."

A current of cold air hit his bare feet as he hurried into the hall. He'd forgotten to put on slippers.

"Okay, okay," he murmured when he entered Feng's room, attempting to soothe his son. He lifted the tiny bundle out of his crib still wrapped in the blanket and cradled him against his chest.

But the contact and warmth of his father's body didn't appease Feng. Nearly blue in the face but appearing to have an endless supply of breath, he shrieked on without a stop.

"Ow! Feng, I think you just made me deaf in that ear."

Shang sighed and began to walk around the room with him, rocking him gently and tenderly kissing him, finally giving up when his crying wouldn't subside.

"Alright, are we hungry? Do we need to bother Mommy again?"

Mulan was sitting up already, her gown open. "Hungry?" she asked, clearly too exhausted to speak more than one or two words.

"Hungry," he answered, handing him over. "Sorry."

With a soft chuckle she took Feng in her arms and let him settle against her. Shang released a sigh of relief as the piercing cries ceased. He sank down wearily on the edge of the bed and watched Mulan as she nursed the baby.

Soothed and satiated, Feng fell asleep as soon as she'd finished burping him.

"Do you want to keep him in bed with us? Then if he wakes up and needs to be fed, you'll be right there for him."

"I'm afraid I'll roll over onto him."

He walked with his wife as she brought their son back to his crib and laid him down.

"He's beautiful," he whispered, filled with pride as he stared down at Feng.

Mulan smiled affectionately and leaned in, poking him playfully. "He looks like his father."

Husband and wife left their infant sleeping and strolled back to their own room.

Settled under the covers once again, Shang stared up at the ceiling, a sense of melancholy pervading him.

"Mao looked like me too when he was born. Then his face changed and I saw your features in his."

Her hand found his in the dark and she squeezed it. "When Feng is old enough to understand, we can tell him about the older brother he never knew."

Shang was silent, wondering what purpose that would serve. As if she'd read his mind, Mulan answered his unspoken question.

"So he can share in the celebration of his brother's life. Not mourn it."

She was so wise. Even though he was a few years older than Mulan it often surprised him how much broader and more mature her view of the world was.

In the semi-darkness of the approaching dawn he leaned over and kissed her tenderly. She snuggled deeper into his chest and sighed contentedly.

"Let's get some sleep, Baba. While we can."

* * *

A/N: And that's the last theme! 


End file.
